


The Dogma of Jedi and Sith

by LessAttitudeMoreAltitude



Series: Dogma [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Abuse, Alternate Universe, Angst, Bad Things Happen Bingo, Child Abuse, Emotional Abuse, Ezra will not be having a good time, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, I will tag each chapter with the prompts, Self-Indulgent, THIS IS GONNA BE A DOOZY, Torture, Whump, Whumptober 2019, i cannot emphasize enough how whumpy/angsty this is gonna be, i'm also doing a, i'm here for the whump not the story building, the pacing will be awkward
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-03
Updated: 2019-10-31
Packaged: 2020-11-22 08:13:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 20
Words: 30,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20871020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LessAttitudeMoreAltitude/pseuds/LessAttitudeMoreAltitude
Summary: In an alternate universe where Anakin never betrayed the Jedi Order and Order 66 never happened...Maul discovers a force sensitive child and decides to mold him into his perfect apprentice





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So this is how this is going to work: generally each chapter will be fulfilling multiple prompts (so I'll be updating often but not every day). I will list the Bad Things Happen Bingo (BTHB) prompts and the Whumptober prompts (they will not be in order) at the beginning of each chapter. I've only worked on this for a couple weeks so it's definitely not my most refined work. But you're not here for refined writing: you're here for whump and angst (and eventual comfort). 
> 
> I promise I will get back to working on The Undeserving after this. Finishing it (at least my first draft) is my goal for NaNoWriMo.
> 
> With that being said, let's get started!
> 
> BTHB: Kidnapping
> 
> Whumptober: 18. Muffled Scream, 19. Asphyxiation, 10. Unconscious

Ezra wasn’t sure what had woken him up. It was almost like he heard something, but not with his ears: with his mind. He blinked sleepily, sitting up in his bed and rubbing his eyes. It was still dark, the middle of the night. He waited a moment, trying to figure out what had woken him up. He could only hear the distant roar of engines from the port and the occasionally mewing of lothcats digging through garbage outside. 

With a small frown, he laid back down, curling up in his warm bed. 

Then he heard it again. Like a small indistinct whisper inside his head. He opened his eyes and sat back up, looking around. “H-Hello…?” he said softly. He couldn’t speak too loudly. His insides felt cold and a horrible sense of dread was starting to eat him from the inside out.

The whisper got louder. It was beckoning him. 

His belly was squirming with uncertainty, yet overcome by a need to seek out the source, Ezra lid out from his bed. He wrapped his arms around himself as he walked towards his bedroom door and slowly opened it. He cringed at the creak it made, and only opened it wide enough that he could slip out into the hallway. At one end was his parents’ bedroom, the door slightly open like it always was. But that wasn’t where the whisper was coming from. It was coming from downstairs. Swallowing down his dread, he slowly tiptoed over and sat down on the top step. From experience, he knew the stairs creaked if you stepped on them wrong. He scooted his butt down the stairs one step at a time, staying close to the wall where the least creaking would happen. 

He got to the bottom and stood straight, looking around as the whispering in his mind got louder. He slowly walked into the living room, looking around carefully. “H-Hello…?” he called out again, a little louder this time. 

“Hello, young one.”

Ezra squeaked and spun around. In a dark corner of the living room, a tall figure stood. Ezra couldn’t quite make him out, but he was tall, with his hands behind his back. 

It was him... Ezra didn't know how he knew, but this person was the one whispering in his head. “W-Who are you...?”

“I am your future,” the figure said. The man stepped forward, his leg clanking as it hit the ground. “There is something special in you that is… of use to me.”

He stepped into the light flooding in from the window and Ezra’s eyes widened at the terrifying sight. The man's skin cragged with old age, his yellow eyes practically glowing. Black tattoos covered the man’s face and torso, sharp horns protruding from his head. As he walked closer, Ezra’s insides got colder and his brain practically screamed at him...

_Run!_

Ezra made a dash for the stairs when something grabbed his neck tightly, lifting him into the air. He flailed against the grip, but his arms swung through the air to find nothing. He was turned around and he saw the man had his clawed hand outstretched. The man's hand began to clench and Ezra felt his throat tightening. “MOM!” Ezra screamed. “DA-!”

The man moved so fast he practically blurred, his hand suddenly pressed tightly against Ezra’s mouth as he pinned Ezra against the wall. “Shh…” the man cooed almost gently. 

It did nothing to calm Ezra. He flailed and scratched against the man’s arm, trying to call out to his parents, but all that came out was muffled screams. He cried in terror, his vision blurring with hot tears. 

“Ezra?!” 

He practically slumped in relief at the sound of his father’s voice, knowing his father would save him. 

The horned stranger turned his head towards the stairs as the lights were suddenly turned on, his eyes flashing dangerously. 

“_Ezra!_” Ephraim’s expression twisted in rage as he charged at the intruder.

But the man extended his other hand and stopped Ezra’s father in his tracks. “How unfortunate…” the man said, sounding almost bored. 

The hand on Ezra was suddenly gone, and he fell to the ground with a gasp, coughing between sobs as he frantically crawled away. He could still hardly see a thing. He didn't understand what was going on. He just knew he had to get _ away_.

There was a flash of red light, a sharp buzz, and a horrified scream. 

Terror all consuming, Ezra managed to scramble to his feet as he ran. He pushed back the ottoman that blocked the entrance to the basement and jumped down, yelping as he landed on the ground and twisted his ankle. There were screams, another sharp buzzing hum... before all went quiet. 

There was nothing but the harsh ragged pants of his own breathing. He limped to the far side of the basement and crawled behind the couch. He pressed his hands over his mouth to quiet himself… and waited. He was trembling uncontrollably despite trying his hardest to make himself stay still. 

The silence stretched. The cold inside his belly seemed to expand, what warmth had been there having vanished with the appearance of the red light. 

Then he heard it: clanking footsteps overhead, getting louder and louder until a shadow fell over the basement entrance. 

Ezra squeezed his eyes shut, tears still rolling down his face. This wasn’t real. It couldn’t be. He just had to curl into himself, roll out of this nightmare and find his way back to wakefulness. He would run out of his bedroom and crawl into his parent’s bed, let them hold him and calm him, tell him everything was okay…

The couch was thrown to the side and Ezra cried out as he was grabbed by his hair and pulled up. “NO!” he screamed, trying to wriggle free. 

The hand was back against his throat, squeezing so hard Ezra choked. His eyes widened in panic when he realized he couldn’t breath. He tried to gasp for air, but his vision blackened, the cold spreading all throughout his body. 

He heard a small chuckle before losing all awareness.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompts
> 
> BTHB: Withholding Medical treatment
> 
> Whump: 13. Adrenaline, 23. Bleeding out

Ezra blinked sluggishly, the echoes of his dream quickly fading. He slowly sat up, staring at the blank duracrete wall in front of him. He let out a soft sigh. This was a dream he had a lot, although it always faded just beyond his grasp when he was awake.

Still, he clung to what wisps remained, the knowledge that he _did_ use to have parents. That they loved him… and that his master had killed them before taking Ezra from his home.

Maul tried to get him to forget, to convince him that this of life grueling training in this complex was the only he had ever had. Some days, Ezra believed him. In a way, it was easier. Just do what his master demanded, get better, and avoid being punished. But other times, remembering actually helped him. His anger, his rage at what his master had done… It fueled his powers.

But the months and years passed and his parents continued to fade. He didn’t remember what they looked like. It was getting harder and harder to feel anything but emptiness about them. 

So Ezra focused on his one goal: to kill his master and free himself.

The door to his room hissed open, and Ezra scrambled to stand. How had he not sensed his master approaching? He stood straight and kept his gaze downward.

“Come, apprentice,” Maul said, walking away. Ezra mutely obeyed, staying a pace and a half behind him at all times. As was usual, Maul led them to their normal training grounds. What wasn’t normal was the cage in the middle of the room that contained a snarling angry animal that Ezra didn’t recognize. It was large quadrupedal mammal with a large mouth filled with long sharp teeth. It glowered at the two of them, a deep rumble in its chest as it growled.

“Today we’re going to put your powers to a test,” Maul said calmly. “Bend the creature’s will to your own.”

Ezra swallowed. He had done this with rats at his master’s bidding, but never something that was this big, with a mind filled with rage and a desire to kill. Taking in a shaky breath, he stepped up closer to the cage and closed his eyes, extending his arm. He reached forward with the Force, circling around the creature’s mind. It was starving… hurt. It was overwhelmed by fear and blind rage. 

With a final sigh, he pushed into the creature’s mind. The creature yelped before letting out a loud roar, resisting Ezra’s intrusion. Ezra grit his teeth as he pushed in, trying to take full control. 

There was a small beep, and Ezra’s eyes snapped open to see the door to the cage swinging open. The creature practically screeched as he jumped out and leapt for Ezra. 

Ezra let out a strangled yell as he thrust both arms forward, pushing the creature back with the Force. It was thrown back against the cage and fell to a heap on the ground. But it was quickly back on its feet, shaking its head before looking at Ezra with hunger. 

Ezra turned to his master in a panic only to find him leaning against the far wall, glaring at Ezra. This was part of the test. 

The creature charged at Ezra again. He tried to push back with the Force, but it wasn’t enough to stop it. It tackled Ezra to the ground and sank its teeth into his shoulder. Ezra let out a scream, instinctively trying to pull away but the pain was blinding and kept him in place. 

“M-Master!” he cried out. Maul wasn’t just going to let him die like this, was he? He wouldn't let Ezra die, he wanted Ezra to become strong, powerful…

The creature started to pull its head back, tearing at Ezra’s flesh. Ezra screamed in hysterical horror, pressing his hand to the creature’s head and _ stabbing _ himself into the creature’s mind. 

Like a switch had been flipped, the creature’s jaw went slack. Panting through tears, Ezra pushed further into its mind, willing it to pull its teeth out of Ezra and step away from him. Ezra turned over on his good side with a whimper, looking over in Maul’s direction. 

Maul was still leaning against the wall, but now he had a pleased smile on his face. 

Ezra gritted his teeth through tears. Why hadn’t his master done anything? Why hadn’t he tried to help him? Acting almost by instinct, Ezra consumed the mind of the creature with his own rage. He let out a shout just as the creature roared and the creature charged towards Maul. 

It barely made two leaps before Maul raised his hand almost lazily, the creature yelping as he raised it into the air. With a flick of his wrist, the creature’s neck snapped.

Ezra cried out, _ feeling _ the twist and crack, before he quickly retreated from of the dead creature’s mind. He curled in on himself and gripped his hair tightly as he sobbed. Dead… was he dead? He felt dead. But his body was aflame with pain, fear and hatred were thrumming ceaselessly through his veins. 

Then he let out a strangled cry as an invisible force grabbed him by the neck and lifted him off the ground. By instinct, Ezra tried to grip at whatever was holding him with his right hand, his left arm hanging uselessly by his side. 

“Did you really think it would be that easy to kill me?” Maul said, an edge of amusement in his voice. 

Ezra could only whimper, still weakly struggling. 

Maul let out a sigh of disgust as he unceremoniously dropped Ezra, his body falling to the ground with a thump. Ezra cried out again, his body shaking from the mixture of adrenaline and pain. “Get up,” Maul growled.

The cold of his master’s mind slowly pierced his own, and Ezra's breathing hitched. Forcing himself to breath as evenly as possible, he pushed up until he was at least sitting up straight. But then he was stuck. His muscles felt like jelly, and every movement was agony. He looked at his master pleadingly. “I-I can’t…”

Maul sneered, his disgust hot and sticky as it twisting and pushing further into Ezra’s mind. “Fine.” He twisted a fist into Ezra’s hair and yanked him to his feet, ignoring his apprentice's cries of pain as he dragged Ezra back to his room. 

Ezra’s vision almost went white from the blinding pain of his body being jostled against Maul’s. But he was helpless to make his master stop or slow down. He nearly passed out when he was tossed into his room. Choking on his sobs, Ezra could do nothing but shake.

“You will remain here and contemplate your choices,” Maul said evenly. “I will see to your wounds once you’ve learned your lesson.”

The light was shut off and the door slammed closed, leaving Ezra trembling in misery on the duracrete floor.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> BTHB: Forced to Watch, backhand slap
> 
> Whumptober: 5. Gunpoint (saberpoint), 12. “Don’t Move”

“The Jedi pestilence still plagues the galaxy,” Maul said calmly. “It’s time you learned how to deal with them.”

Ezra simply nodded. The Jedi. If there was one thing Ezra knew, it was the sins of the Jedi. Ezra even remembered his parents speaking of them. Peacekeepers of the Galactic Republic, his parents had expressed concerns about their involvement with the war and their roles as military generals. 

And everything that Maul had taught Ezra about the Jedi seemed to only support his parents’ worries. The Jedi were cowards, using both the Republic and the clone army to hide their failures and do their dirty work. 

“Wallowing… nesting… hiding in the peace they enforce,” Maul had told him. “Their strength is waning. Deep down, they know they cannot maintain order forever.”

The galaxy was a mess. Reconstruction after the end of the Clone Wars and the execution of Maul’s own master, Darth Sidious, had been slow and sloppy at best. The Jedi were failing at maintaining the very balance they proclaim to hold so dearly. It was something Maul talked about often. Ezra was usually unable to focus on his words, but Maul had spoken about it so many times, Ezra had absorbed most of it. 

Ezra followed Maul through the base down to the brig. Maul had confined Ezra here a number of times before, but this time, one of the cells was already activated, fear and anger radiating out of it through the Force. 

Ezra stopped in his tracks, his eyes widening. It was another person. He nearly cried in relief. He hadn’t seen another person in so long...

But his master kept walking forward until he was standing in front of the cell. “Come, my apprentice.”

He stepped up to Maul’s side and looked in. Shackled to the wall was a brown skinned human woman. Donned in brown and tan robes, her black hair was separated and encased in several gold cylinders, framing her glowering expression. A smaller thin braid drifted down below the rest of her hair, hanging over her right shoulder. 

“I… Is that a Jedi…?” Ezra asked quietly.

“Yes…” Maul said. “I sensed her presence while I was gathering our supplies and knew this was the perfect opportunity to show you the sins of the Jedi.” He waved his hand at the control panel and the laser gate fell. 

Ezra stayed just a step behind Maul as they walked inside. Maul had his hands gripped behind him as he looked down at the Jedi. She wasn’t cowed, glaring back at him. Ezra could sense her anger and frustration, but she couldn't completely hide her fear.

Maul glanced back at Ezra, nodding to the far corner. “I want you to sit and observe.”

Nodding, Ezra obediently went to the corner and knelt down on the ground. He was used to his knees digging into the hard duracrete. 

Maul returned his attention to the Jedi. He ignited one end of his lightsaber and raised it up to the woman’s chin. She pulled back from it as far as she could, but he kept pushing so it was just barely touching her chin. She squeezed her eyes shut with a small pained grunt. 

“Tell me…” he said softly. “What do you call yourself?”

She opened her eyes just enough to glare at him.

Maul gave a small smile. “There’s no need to make this harder on yourself.” He slowly dragged the tip of his saber down her neck. Her eyes snapped back shut as she grit her teeth. 

When he pulled the saber back she relaxed slightly, but kept her head back. She squinted her eyes open with some effort. “I-I won’t give in…” she whispered hatefully. 

“We shall see,” Maul replied. He yanked her robes open, exposing her chest. The Jedi simply maintained her glare as he pressed the point of his saber to her shoulder and started to drag it along her skin. She was starting to shake from the pain, her distress bitter in the Force, the smell of burning flesh filing the cell. 

Ezra breathed through his mouth, beginning to feel nauseous. The sight, the smell, the Jedi’s raw emotions in the Force… He closed his eyes, trying to block it out. 

There was movement, and pain exploded across Ezra’s face as his head snapped to the side. His opened his eyes to see his master glaring down at him. “You will watch…” he said, voice his dangerously calm. “... or you will join her.”

Ezra quickly nodded, rubbing his cheek before resuming his kneeling position. He breathed very slowly and shallowly, trying not to throw up. 

Maul turned back to the Jedi, continuing to draw patterns painfully slow. Ezra could see and sense her resolve slowly dissolving. She was covered in a sheen of sweat, her body trembling, and silent tears were falling down her face. Her fear kept fluctuating, increasing with the pain but then being tamped down by her own will. 

“This can end at any moment…” Maul said, reaching forward and pressing a thumb into one of the burns. 

She let out a choked cry, her body shaking harder. But she grit her teeth and managed a glare. 

Maul stood straight, sheathing his lightsaber. “Very well.” He turned to Ezra. “Stay here and keep watch over her.”

Ezra stiffened, looking back and forth between his master and the Jedi. She was probably twice his size, and while she might be shackled and hurt, he could feel her contempt. “W-What if…?”

Maul glared at him, and Ezra withered under it, feeling Maul poking at his mind threateningly. Swallowing, Ezra looked down. “Y-Yes, Master…”

Satisfied, Maul nodded and walked out. Ezra jumped as the power gate was risen, locking him inside the cell. He trembled, realizing he was trapped in here with the Jedi and her quiet anger. 

Trying not to let his fear show, Ezra focused his gaze on the ground. It was almost impossible to block out her panting, her chains clinking as she shifted. 

“Hey kid…”

Ezra flinched, glancing up at her before quickly looking back down.

“You know you don’t have to stay with him…” she said, her husky voice surprisingly soft in contrast from earlier. “If you help me out to a ship, I can take you somewhere safe.”

He just kept his gaze fixed firmly on the ground. She was asking the impossible. He had dreamed of escaping this place, of escaping Maul, but he just wasn’t strong or smart enough.

“I know it’s scary,” the Jedi went on. “But I’ll be with you. Get these karking cuffs off me, and I can protect you.”

Ezra looked up at her with a glare. “If you could protect me, you wouldn’t be here in the first place.”

She slumped slightly at that. “I was foolish… Arrogant.” Then her resolve hardened. “I won’t make the same mistake again.”

He was ashamed to admit that he considered the offer for a moment. He imagined the two of them sneaking through the compound to the hanger, sneaking onto a ship and taking off, leaving this horrible place and his master behind…

But that’s not what would happen. His master would find them. And Ezra shivered at the mere thought of what Maul might do to him if he learned that Ezra had released the Jedi. 

So Ezra looked back down at the ground wordlessly. He couldn’t. It wouldn’t make a difference. 

He heard the Jedi sigh and the sound of metal clinking as she shifted. Ezra just clenched his fists and closed his eyes, trying to block out all of these horrible sensations. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> BTHB: Burns, Bound and Gagged
> 
> Whumptober: 21. Laced Drink, 22. Hallucination

Some time passed, the silence stretching between the two of them. Ezra tried to ignore the stink of the Jedi's burned and dirty body, the sounds of her breathing, the shifting of her robes... It was all just overwhelming, and it made Ezra want to beg for his master to let him out. But he knew it wouldn't do any good.

Finally, the power gate once again deactivated and Maul stepped back into the cell. He ignored the Jedi as he walked over to Ezra, kneeling down in front of him. “Drink this.”

Ezra looked up his master with a slight frown. He was holding a glass of water.

“You are no doubt dehydrated after all this time. I want you at the top of your game.”

Ezra nodded mutely as he took the glass and began to drink. Once it touched his lips, he realized how thirsty he actually was and quickly chugged it down. It also helped alleviate his nausea. Once empty, Ezra let out a sigh and gave the glass back to Maul. 

Seemingly satisfied, Maul stood and left again, restoring the power gate. 

That was… strange. His master very rarely went out of his way to care for Ezra's needs like that. Although Maul made a point to make sure Ezra was never so injured or sick that he was permanently disabled, a little dehydration wasn't usually a concern.

He stared at the ground, the tension in the cell was so thick it made it hard to breathe. But as time passed, Ezra noticed that his vision started to blur in and out, his awareness in the Force going muffled. Ezra frowned, looking up only for his vision to swim. He groaned, putting a hand on the wall to steady himself. 

“Kid?” The Jedi’s voice was distorted. 

Ezra tried to get up, but couldn’t get his limbs to move properly. Did… Did Maul drug him? Why? 

“Master…!” he called out, groaning when the effort seemed to recoil in his head. The edges of his vision blackened before the world tilted and…

… it righted itself. But something was wrong. With a small moan, Ezra tried to get up only to be stopped by a pair of cuffs around his wrists. 

His eyes widened and he saw the blurry outline of someone standing in front of him. He tried to say something only to realize he was gagged, a familiar durasteel contraption that covered his lower face, forcing his jaw shut and pressing his lips tightly against his teeth.

Ezra whimpered and panted through his nose, trying to get his cuffs off. But the moment he reached for the Force, a sharp jolt of electricity shot through his body. 

“Doesn’t feel good, does it?” 

The Jedi? It sounded like her. Anger laced her voice the same as when she had growled at his master. Fear coiled in Ezra’s belly as he blinked several times, clearing his vision. 

It _ was _ her. She was standing over him, looking almost unnaturally calm as she gazed down at him, her lightsaber out and ignited by her side. “You had your chance to help me…” she said. “But you just sat there and let that Zabrak torture me.”

Ezra moaned, shaking in his restraints. He couldn’t use the Force. He couldn’t reach out to his master for help. But he would be back soon, right? He would figure out what had happened and get him out of this…

She raised her saber so that the tip was right in front of his face, the green glow filling his vision. He flinched back and whimpered. He looked up at her, trying to beg with his eyes. He had just been scared. He would have helped her if he could have. He was sorry. Please… _Please!_

The tip of the saber was pressed to his cheek, and Ezra let out a strangled yelp against his gag as he jerked away. He was hyperventilating through his nose as the burning pain seeped into his face. 

“Scream all you want. Your master isn’t coming for you…” she sneered. She lowered her saber slowly, tapping it against Ezra’s skin. 

Tears streamed down his face as he sobbed, still struggling to get away. The pain wasn't even that bad, not compared to some of his master's other forms of discipline. But Maul's punishments were always purposeful and predictable. He had no idea what this Jedi was going to do to him… He had to hold on to the hope that his master would come back any moment. 

Then she pressed the saber hard into his collarbone.

Ezra screamed so loudly his gag was basically useless. The smell of burning flesh flooded his nostrils as the pain shot straight through his chest. His eyes began to roll back before she pulled the saber away. He sagged and sobbed, whimpering weakly. He tried to hold onto to hope that Maul would come…

But with every minute that passed, his hope waned. Eventually, all he wished for was blissful unconsciousness, but anytime he got close, the Jedi pulled back just enough to keep him awake. 

Ezra clenched his fists, anger beginning to rise and mix with the pain, making it more bearable. He wanted to kill her. He wanted to kill Maul for abandoning him. He didn’t deserve this. What he would give to rip that lightsaber out of this Jedi’s hands, slice straight through her, and hunt his master down.

His rage simmered, gave him something to focus on rather than the pain and fear. He just had to bide his time… 

* * *

Maul grinned as he sensed his apprentice’s anger flowing through him. Finally Ezra was learning to channel his fear and pain properly.

He pulled back the Jedi’s lightsaber, swinging it into the air. With the modified Millaflower powder, it was easy for him to manipulate Ezra’s perceptions. A bit of concentration, and he could apply the visage and voice of the Jedi Padawan onto himself. 

He glanced into the corner with a smirk, where the Padawan was bound and gagged. She was glaring at Maul with helpless rage. She knew what he was doing, that he was using her persona. 

There was only one thing left to do now. He waved his hand through the air, and the shackles and gag both clicked open and dropped to the ground. Ezra’s eyes widened, and he charged forward with a primal scream. Maul let himself be tackled, dropping the saber which rolled toward the Padawan.

Ezra stumbled, panting harshly as he scrambled for the fallen saber. He looked up and saw the Padawan. 

Instead of fear, the young Jedi relaxed and closed her eyes with a sigh, her Force signature calming just before Ezra buried the saber in her chest. 

Maul smiled with a satisfied sigh. It was done; Ezra had killed his very first Jedi.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> BTHB: Mind Rape
> 
> Whumptober: 9. Shackled, 28. Beaten

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter is probably the (physically) whumpiest of the whole fic. It's going to be rough for Ezra. But I promise Caleb is showing up next chapter.

Something had changed in his Master. And it wasn’t just the fact that he had finally taking Ezra out of the compound. Maul seemed distracted. It wasn’t until they were in the heart of hyperspace that it became clear. 

“I can sense him… _ Kenobi_.”

Ezra blinked. He wasn’t sure how Maul could sense him so far away, but it made perfect sense. Maul talked about Kenobi a lot. Ranted about how he had stolen Maul’s life, his power and prestige. In his lectures about the Jedi, Kenobi featured prominently in them.

But Ezra couldn’t care less about any of that. They were off the base. Ezra hadn’t been outside the compound since Maul had first brought him there years ago.

Maybe… Maybe this would be Ezra’s chance to escape. Maybe slit Maul’s throat while he had the chance…

After the incident with the Jedi, it was all Ezra could think about. The moment he had killed her, he immediately regretted it. As the life force drained out of her body, Ezra’s vision had suddenly sharpened and he could see her muzzle and shackles. Then he had sensed his master’s presence behind him just before passing out. 

It had been enough. Ezra wasn't stupid. He was pretty sure the Jedi had never tortured him. His master had. He had drugged Ezra with that water and tortured him in order to get him to kill the Jedi. After figuring that out, Ezra’s hatred for Maul had only blossomed. Unfortunately, Ezra was still weak and powerless compared to his master and had no hope of fighting back. 

But now that they were going out into the greater galaxy… maybe now he had a chance to get away. Ezra had to keep himself mentally steeled and outwardly calm. If his master got even a whiff of what he was thinking, he knew Maul would lock him down, punish him viciously, and he would never see the light of day again. 

But Maul was obviously distracted now. He wasn’t paying Ezra as much mind as he usually did. Even when they arrived at the planet (Ezra had no idea which one, and he wasn’t about to ask), he barely spoke a word to Ezra. He landed the ship in a port and looked out to the city.

“He is here…” Maul said softly. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply, obviously focusing on the Force. Ezra just sat as still as possible, waiting to see what Maul was going to do. If he went off to pursue Kenobi, maybe Ezra could find a way to sneak away…

“We should rest,” Maul suddenly said, opening his eyes. “We’ll need it for the fight ahead.”

Ezra’s eyes widened slightly. ‘We’? As in, Maul wanted Ezra to help him fight Kenobi, a man who had defeated Maul in the past? Ezra could not imagine being any use in a fight like that, but if that was what his master wanted… 

Ezra followed Maul to the ship's small cabin. Maul grabbed a thin blanket from the bunk, and tossed it to the ground, obviously meant for his apprentice. Ezra wordlessly walked over and spread it out on the ground before laying down on it as Maul laid down on the bunk. He felt almost numb as he glanced up at his master. He had never slept in the same room as Maul before. In a strange way, the idea that Maul slept at all seemed absurd. But these circumstances were too good to ignore. Ezra remembered the story of Darth Sidious and his master. How he had killed his master in his sleep… 

In the deepest corners of his mind, he slowly came up with a plan. Maul had placed his saber, sheathed in the walking stick, against the wall next to his bunk. As long as he kept his own mind shielded, Ezra could move carefully and grab it. Then it would only take a moment to plunge the saber into his master's chest.

Then he would be free.

Maul’s breathing was even, but Ezra continued to wait. He had to be sure that Maul was in the deepest sleep. His heart was pounding in his chest, but he was pretty sure his shields were holding steady. Otherwise Maul would have realized by now what he was planning. 

Once he built up the nerve, Ezra very slowly sat up. His body had an uncontrollable tremble running through it. Before getting up all the way, Ezra took a moment to breathe slowly. There was a roaring in his ears, making him paranoid. Could Maul hear that? How loud was his shaking? 

A part of Ezra wanted to stop, to just lay back down and forget this crazy plan. But he couldn’t go back to that compound. This was his one chance.

Moving slowly and carefully, Ezra got on his hands and knees and crawled over to the head of the bed. He could see the lightsaber staff leaning against the wall. He kept low to the ground. If Maul woke up, Ezra should be below the line of sight…

Then the lightsaber was right there. His hands were shaking violently as he grabbed it and pulled it from the wall. He gripped it so tightly it hurt his fingers, but he couldn’t risk dropping it and making noise. 

Swallowing the lump in his throat, smothering his desire to whimper in fear, Ezra pushed up to stand completely. To stand _ over _ his master, who was sleeping soundly. 

Ezra grit his teeth. This man murdered his parents, took him from his home, hurt and tortured him for years… He held the lightsaber over Maul’s chest. 

_"Die."_

There was a blur, and Ezra cried out as he was sent flying back. He hit the wall hard, the air knocked out of him as he collapsed to the ground. He gasped and clawed at the ground, trying to pull in breath. 

There was a hand around his throat that dragged him from the ground and slammed him back against the wall. Ezra choked and continued to gasp for air, his vision obscured by tears. 

“Did you _ really _ think you could get rid of me that easily?”

Knives of ice suddenly stabbed into Ezra’s mind, and he opened his mouth to scream but no sound came out. The pain was like nothing he had felt before, like claws shredding at the very tissue of his brain. Unable to do anything but choke, Ezra’s body jerked and twitched against the wall as Maul tore into his mind, ripping mercilessly at every corner of his being.

“Where do you think you would be without me? You think you’d find someone to take your broken shell in?” 

The pain was blinding, but Ezra could still hear Maul with perfect clarity, his words slicing through him like a vibrobade through flimsi. A sick pleasure radiated from Maul as he buried himself deeper and deeper in Ezra’s mind. 

“No one would lift a finger to help you. Even a Jedi’s supposed altruism would fail at the mere sight of you. Iam all you _have!_”

Ezra was suddenly dropped to the floor, the cold tendrils yanking out of him. Ezra was coughing, finally able to pull air into his lungs with large gasps. His body was limp as he trembled against the floor, feeling completely hollowed out. 

A moment later, harsh hands were yanking on him again. He whimpered and cried, unable to form coherent thoughts. All there was now was absolute terror. His clothes were stripped off of him before his arms were yanked back and secured with a pair of tight cuffs. He was dragged to the corner of the room, and there was the sound of a lightsaber. Ezra flinched away from the red light with a whimper, anticipating the burning tip to dig into his skin. 

But there was no pain. Just the sound of durasteel scraping against durasteel before the saber hissed away, plunging them back into darkness. A hand twisted in Ezra’s hair, and he could only manage a weak moan as he was yanked up into a standing position and pushed back against the wall. This time, a cold durasteel collar wrapped around his neck and whirred as it locked shut. Maul let him go and Ezra’s legs bucked, but the collar kept him from falling. Ezra’s eyes widened as he scrambled to get his trembling legs to support his weight again. 

“Clearly I’ve been much too easy on you…” Maul said.

Ezra’s mind was practically numb from terror as Maul forced his jaw shut and wrapped a muzzle tightly against his face. 

“I see now that in order to mold you into the perfect apprentice… I first need to completely break your spirit.”

There was the high pitched buzz of energy, and Ezra keened in fear at the sight of the electro-whip. He squirmed, but he knew it was pointless. Tears streamed down his face. His master used this whip when he wanted to punish Ezra for extended periods without damaging his body. 

Maul swung it, and the electrified wire was laid across Ezra’s chest, the end of it flicking around and biting his back. Ezra screamed into his gag at the burning pain spindling through his body. He tried to reach out to his master in desperation, to beg and plead, but Maul’s mind just stabbed him back, pulling Ezra's awareness down into his exposed body so that all that Ezra knew was the pain of the whip as he was beaten with it, over and over and over again… 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> BTHB: Touch-Starved
> 
> Whumptober: Altno. 9 Hiding, Altno. 4 Dehydration

Time meant nothing to Ezra. There were no more training sessions. There was nothing except… on and off. On was when his master was here, when Ezra was shackled to the wall. Ezra didn’t want to be on, but his master would rip into his mind and _ force _ him to stay on. This was when his master would burn a few simple facts into his mind.

He was broken.

He was nothing without his master.

Only his master could make him into something useful. 

These statements were being branded into his mind all while his master spent hours invading his mind and beating his body. Ezra could barely form any thoughts of his own. He could no longer beg or apologize. He could merely bend to his master’s treatment. 

What Ezra craved was being _ off_. His master left for reasons he didn’t understand, and he would be left as a heap on the cold durasteel. His arms were always shackled behind his back, and his muzzle was only removed to drink water before being promptly replaced. His body was freezing cold yet aflame with pain. His throat was dry and sticky, with only the taste of stale blood occasionally seeping onto his tongue. But without his master’s will to keep him present, Ezra could drift. He could get lost in the din of the Force until his master returned and turned him back on. 

Then… something brushed against his mind. Ezra whimpered, anticipating his master’s return, but then he realized this was different. It was like a soft song before fading. Ezra blinked sluggishly, returning to his body just enough to try and figure out what was going on. 

There was someone nearby. Someone _other _ than his master. And they were coming closer. 

Ezra’s breathing hitched, the breath caught in his throat and grinding against his esophagus like sandpaper. They were coming towards the ship. Who could it possibly be? Why would they be coming here? Where was his master?

He had to hide. But with his shackles attached to a chain, he couldn’t move far. He looked around, and his eyes fixated on the threadbare blanket his master had graciously given him. With a low whimper, he pushed his body across the floor towards it. His body protested loudly, the echos of the electro-whip burning across his skin and muscles, but Ezra forced himself to keep going. Who knows what would happen to him if he was found by strangers?

Panting through his nose and tears falling down his cheeks at the pain constantly pulsating through his body, he managed to get close enough that he could grab the edge of the blanket. With his hands behind his back, he slowly twisted and rolled himself up in the blanket, the chain now wrapped tightly around his torso. 

Once he was completely wrapped up in the blanket, he huddled against the wall, praying for the people to just leave. 

* * *

It was like nothing Caleb had ever sensed through the Force. Utter raw terror and pain was screaming and echoing in almost every direction. “Is… Is that Maul?” he asked his master.

“No,” she said, her voice grave. “This is something else.”

Caleb nodded slowly, shivered as the raw emotions continued to resonate through the Force. “Could…” he swallowed hard. “Could it be Tai?”

His master pressed her lips together. “I’m not sure,” she said honestly.

Caleb’s stomach twisted as they walked through the port, searching for Maul’s ship. Chances were that whatever was causing these ripples in the Force were with it. The thought of Tai having been taken by a Sith Lord - that this could be _ her _ screaming through the Force - was nauseating.

“So what exactly are we looking for?” Mixx asked. He and Grey were walking just a pace behind their Jedi. “How will we know which ship is his?”

Master Billaba gave a dry chuckle. “The Force is guiding us… much more loudly than usual.”

Caleb turned back to the aging clones. “There’s something practically screaming in the Force. Chances are it’s connected to Maul.”

“Indeed,” his master affirmed. 

Grey sighed. “I still can’t believe General Kenobi went after Maul alone…” 

“He’s not alone; he has Cody,” Caleb pointed out.

“And Maul is personal for him,” Master Billaba added. “He’s insistent that this is his problem and that he alone needs to fix this.”

Caleb suddenly stopped in his tracks, the Force suddenly singing to him. It was soft and gentle, barely noticeable under the bedlam of fear still screaming in the Force, but there none the less. Suddenly, he had the distinct feeling that this _ wasn’t_ Tai… 

His master turned toward him with a slight frown. “Caleb?”

“I… I sense something…” He didn’t know how to describe it. It was like a small spot of warmth. But the Force was so clouded with the din he couldn’t focus on it properly. 

Master Billaba hummed. “We should get moving. I sense we’re close.”

It was obvious where they were supposed to go. They just followed the naked emotion until it was so intense that even Grey and Mixx were beginning to feel it. They kept taking deep breaths, trying to hide how much it was affecting them.

“It’s not you,” Master Billaba assured them. “There’s something else at work here.” She took a moment to look toward the source. “Stay here. Caleb and I will go ahead.”

“We’re not letting you go alone!” Grey insisted. 

“We will be fine,” she said firmly. “We can shield our minds in ways you can’t. Stay back and patrol the area. If you see Maul, let us know but do _ not _ engage.”

Grey and Mixx glanced at each other before nodding. “Yes, General.”

The two Jedi went on, and Caleb had to focus on his shields. It’s true that he and his master were much more equipped to protect their minds, but it still wasn’t easy. Whatever was projecting this into the Force was not only in agony, but it was lashing out violently. And yet, it didn’t feel malicious at all. In fact, it didn’t even feel intentional. It felt like a desperate animal trying to escape whatever trap it was in.

They finally arrived at the source: a ship bay that was easily unlocked with the Force. The bay doors opened to reveal a large Mandalorian Gauntlet fighter, its red and black paint job chipped and faded. 

Moving forward quickly and wordlessly, Caleb and his master approached the ramp leading up to the ship's entrance. Caleb had his saber in hand but was waiting to ignite it. He hesitantly reached out in the Force to try and figure out what could possibly be in this ship. 

He frowned. The warmth from earlier started singing again. It was still nearly drowned out by the tumult, but this time it was a more insistent pressure in the back of his head. 

He quickly shook it off. He had to focus. His master took point, and he closely followed, turning to cover their rear. This Gauntlet was a bit bigger than typical Kom’rk class fighter. The ramp led to a long and thin loading dock designed for dropping off soldiers in the middle of a battle. Just past it was the cockpit, and on either side of the dock were two doors. There didn’t seem to be any immediate danger, so they relaxed a bit, standing straight.

There it was again. That warm singing pressure… Caleb blinked, feeling a pull towards the door to the right. He started to walk towards it. 

“Caleb?”

He paused, looking back at his master. “I can’t explain it…” he said quietly. “But something’s calling to me.”

“I see…” She looked towards the door. “Then you take point.”

Caleb nodded slowly. He could take point, but he was almost certain that this wasn’t a threat. The Force was encouraging him rather than warning him. He wasn’t in danger, but there was something in that room for him. 

Of course, that wasn’t any reason to be foolhardy. His lightsaber still in hand, he approached the door carefully. Taking a deep breath, he hit the control panel, the door hissing open.

Caleb covered his mouth as he swallowed down the urge to throw up. The room's air was stale and stank of body fluids, and he could just barely hear the sound of soft panicking whimpers. His eyes went immediately to a small trembling ball in the far corner. It was haphazardly wrapped in a thin blanket, a small tuft of black greasy hair poking out at one end and bare trembling feet sticking out the other. And that was when Caleb realized that the roar of emotions emitting from this…

Child. This was a _child_. 

His body moved without thought. He went over and knelt next to the child, gently placing a hand on their back. 

The child flinched back violently with a muffled cry. The blanket fell off the child’s shoulders and there was a flurry of motion as they tried to scramble away from Caleb, only stopped when the chain connected to durasteel cuffs was pulled taut.

“Hey, hey, shh…!” he tried to soothe. A bubble of anger formed in his chest as he watched the child curled up as far away from Caleb as the chain would allow. They were naked, shaking and whimpering through a metal device covering the child’s mouth. Their gaunt body was covered in scars, bruises, and welts, telling a horror story of abuse and torture. 

Caleb swallowed, reaching out with the Force, determined to free the child. With a few clicks, the shackles and muzzle fell to the ground with a clang. 

The child looked down at the fallen muzzle with something akin with confusion as they continued to back up into the corner. They moaned in pain as they brought their arms forward and cradled them to their chest. 

“You’re safe now…” Caleb said gently, very slowly crawling toward them. Taking a risk, he lowered his shields a bit. He flinched back at the raw emotion the child was emitting, but he grit his teeth through the pain. He wanted the child to know he was being truthful. “I promise…”

He got close enough that he was able to touch the child’s shoulder. Their breath hitched and they flinched away, looking up at Caleb with wide eyes filled with fear and uncertainty. Caleb took in the brilliant blue eyes and bloodshot eyes, the burn scar stretching across their right cheek, their dried and cracked lips… and he pressed his palm to their cheek. 

This time, the child didn’t pull away. Their fear waned as their confusion waxed. Then their eyes went half-lidded as they just barely pressed back against Caleb’s hand. 

Caleb gave a soft smile. “That’s right. You’re safe…”

The child looked up at him, still leaning against Caleb’s hand. Caleb wasn’t even sure if they could understand Basic… 

Gods, what had this child gone through?


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> BTHB: Bedside Vigil
> 
> Whumptober: Altno. 2 Broken Voice

“He’s dead?” Caleb echoed. “Like… Dead dead?”

Depa gave a soft chuckle. “Yes. Master Kenobi had a confrontation with Maul, and he has confirmed that the Sith is dead. So now all that remains is to take care of the child.”

Caleb glanced back to the medbay. “Right…”

“I wasn’t able to get much out of the kid,” Mixx said. “But based on his approximate age and his biometric scan, I believe I’ve found a profile for him.” He pulled up a file. “Mira and Ephraim Bridger were communication officers for the Republic, but four years ago they were murdered under mysterious circumstances, and their five year old son - Ezra Bridger - was reported missing. He was approximately five years old at the time and had been missing ever since.”

He brought up a holo of the family that was part of a missing person’s bulletin. There was a man and a woman playing with their son, who had dark skin, black hair, and striking blue eyes. It was difficult to see the resemblance to the starved and scared child they had in their medbay, but those eyes… those were unmistakable. 

“Nine…” Caleb whispered. “He’s only nine…”

“And as you expected, General, his midichlorian levels are extraordinarily high,” Mixx added. “Top 98% of inducted Jedi. About the same level as the Commander.” 

Depa sighed. “I was afraid of that. It’s likely that Maul kidnapped Ezra Bridger with the intent of training him to be his apprentice.”

“Well I don’t know what kind of ‘training’ this Sith Lord was doing,” Mixx said darkly. “Seems more just like systematic torture to me.” He looked over his notes. “He has extensive scarring which had to have been inflicted over a period of years. Some have been recently inflicted with a lightsaber. He is underweight and dehydrated. I’m shocked he hasn’t succumb to an infection. And those welts and bruises? I recognize those types of injuries from the times we’ve helped bust slaver operations; he’s been subjected to repeated beatings with a slaver’s whip.” Mixx shook his head. “It just doesn’t make any sense…”

“Those who follow the doctrine of the Dark Side only care about power and control over all living things,” Depa said. “In both body and mind…" 

Caleb swallowed. Maul hadn’t just tortured Ezra physically. For an untrained child to scream out like that in the Force… Maul must have completely destroyed any natural shielding the boy had. Which - Caleb supposed - would make him easier to manipulate and control. Ezra might have calmed down enough to no longer affect the clones like he had before, but it was still painful for him and his master when they tried to connect with him. 

“Well, I have him on some fluids,” Mixx says. “The sooner he can get some real food in his belly, the better.”

Depa nodded. “I will be contacting the Temple ahead of our arrival to inform them of the situation.”

Mixx raised an eyebrow. “You’re taking him back to the Temple?”

“I don’t see what other choice we have. With his Force abilities and lack of control, we can’t leave him with local services. It’s too dangerous. So as soon as the ship is prepped, we’ll be leaving.”

“Wait, right _ now?_” Caleb asked. “But we haven’t found Tai yet!”

“I know,” Depa said softly, placing a hand on his shoulder. “But this child needs to be taken to the Temple where he can be properly evaluated by the High Council. I’ve spoken with Master Muln to explain the situation. He is going to continue the search for his padawan with the aid of Master Kenobi. They suspect Maul was responsible for her disappearance. You are free to join them if you wish, Caleb. I can escort young Bridger back to Coruscant by myself.”

Caleb bit his lip. He wanted to stay and look for Tai. It was the entire reason he had convinced his master to join Master Muln and Master Kenobi on this mission since this was the last place she had reported in.

However, the thought of leaving Ezra now made him feel vaguely sick. Even though he knew almost nothing about the youngling, a part of Caleb was drawn towards him. But it’s not like Ezra wouldn’t be in good hands. His master would take care of him, and he had no doubt Grey and the others would protect him. 

His master gave his shoulder a squeeze. “The choice is yours, padawan. But I’ll be leaving by the end of today’s cycle.”

Caleb nodded and watched his master walk towards the cockpit to prepare for the journey. With a shaky sigh, he looked over at the medbay door. 

Steeling himself, he went into the medbay, his eyes drawn to the bed at the far end that was surrounded by a thick pale blue curtain. He walked towards it. “Hey…” he said, announcing his presence. “It’s me…” He reached for the curtain and slowly pulled it back.

And there Ezra was, curled up tightly at the head of the bed. He was drowning in the Caleb’s robe, which he had wrapped the boy up in before carrying him off of Maul’s ship. Caleb was mildly surprised that Mixx hadn’t gotten Ezra a set of medclothes to wear instead. A thin clear tube snaked out from the folds of the robe and connected to a bag of water.

The boy was stiff, his eyes wide and fixed on the bed. He had yet to show Caleb any kind of acknowledgement. In the sharp lights of the medbay, Caleb could easily see the damage on Ezra’s face. His skin was sickly, almost waxy looking. In contrast, the burn scar on Ezra’s cheek and the purple and yellow bruises decorating his face looked much harsher.

Caleb stepped just a little closer. “Mixx tells me your name’s Ezra. My name’s Caleb.”

Ezra’s eyes flicked up at him for just a moment before he looked down at himself. Trembling slightly, Ezra started to slide the robe off his shoulders.

“Hey, hey…” Caleb stepped forward grabbed the edges of the robe. Ezra flinched back and looked at him with wide eyes. “Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you…” He saw now that Ezra _ was _ wearing medclothes underneath. With a small smile, Caleb pulled the robe back around Ezra’s shoulders. “You can keep this for now if you want. I bet it’s warmer than those pajamas Mixx put you in.”

Ezra frowned, still trembling slightly. He seemed confused, but curled back up in the oversized robe, burying his nose in the fabric of one of the sleeves.

Caleb couldn’t help a soft chuckle. Despite the situation, it was damned cute. He pulled up a chair and sat next to the bed. “So my master is going to take you back to the Temple.”

Ezra’s frown deepened. “T-Temple…?” he echoed, his voice cracking.

“Yeah, the Jedi Temple on Coruscant." 

There was a moment of… fear? guilt?... that was so brief that Caleb hardly registered it. It took an additional moment for him to realize that it had come from Ezra. “You’ll be safe there,” Caleb assured. “They’ll make you better, you’ll get to meet other Force sensitives your age…”

Ezra just burrowed deeper into Caleb’s robes, turning his face away from him. Caleb sighed. He wasn’t sure what he had expected. He had no idea how he supposed to interact with a child tortured by a _Sith Lord_. He was in way over his head. 

At the sound of a moan, Caleb looked back at Ezra to see his eyes drifting close. Then his head jerked back up, his eyes forced wide as he tried to stay awake. “You should get some sleep,” Caleb said. 

Ezra glanced at Caleb before staring at the curtain. He gave a small shake of his head. “I-I can’t,” he croaked. 

“Why not?” Caleb prodded gently. 

“I-If my master f-finds me resting w-w-without p-permi-ission, h-he’ll punish me.”

Despite Ezra’s stuttering, it was said so matter-of-factly that it took Caleb a moment to fully process the statement. “Oh, Ezra…” He gently reached forward and placed a hand on his shoulder, pleased when Ezra didn’t flinch away. “Your master, Maul…. He’s dead.”

Ezra’s head whipped toward Caleb so fast his neck audibly popped. “W-What?”

The roar of emotions swelled and Caleb grimaced and pulled away as they poured against his shields. Fear, hate, disbelief all crashed together, and for a moment they broke through his shields. Caleb groaned and pressed his hands to his forehead, trying to manage the pain. 

Guilt. Terror. Caleb bit his lip as he breathed deeply, pulling his shields back up and reinforcing them. The emotions ebbed away enough that Caleb sagged in relief, blinking tears of pain away. 

A loud crash had his head snapping up to see Ezra off the bed, the IV line having been yanked and toppling the stand over. He was facing Caleb and backing up, his body shaking violently as he stared at Caleb with absolute fear. “I-I’m s-s-s-s-!” Ezra was choking on his words. 

“It’s okay!” Caleb tried to assure, standing up to go towards him. “I know it was an accident….!”

Caleb’s robe got caught under Ezra as he stepped back and he let out a yelp as he fell to the ground. He was gasping for air as he curled in on himself. Caleb fell to his knees next to him. “Ezra?!” 

He grabbed Ezra’s shoulder in an effort to reassure him, but Ezra’s breathing just hitched and his eyes rolled back as he fainted. 

Caleb was frozen, staring at Ezra’s crumbled expression. The kid had literally passed out from fear. 

Feeling horrible, he gathered Ezra up in his arms and carried him back to bed. He tucked him into the blankets and used his rudimentary first aid skills to put a new needle on the IV and reinsert it into Ezra’s other arm. With a shaky sigh, he sat back down on the chair, looking the child over. He just felt completely at a loss. What was he supposed to do?

He closed his eyes, breathing deeply and focusing on his center. Don’t think; listen. What was the Force telling him?

Surprisingly, the Force was quick to answer, and it couldn’t be clearer: the flow of the Force was pointing him straight at this boy. Just like it had on the Sith Lord’s ship. 

Opening his eyes, he let out a sigh. He didn’t know why, but Force was pushing him _ hard _ to stay with Ezra. It didn’t make any sense to him. He knew he would be much more useful staying here looking for Tai than he would be following Ezra back home. There were other much more experienced Jedi at the Temple who could take much better care of him. But… 

He gently grabbed Ezra’s hand, running a thumb over the back of it. There was just something about this that felt _ right_. He couldn’t really explain it, even to himself, but if this was what the Force was telling him, who was he to question it? 

“You’re going to be okay…” Caleb assured quietly. He would tell his master of his decision later. Right now, he didn’t want to leave the boy alone, even if he was out cold. “We’re going to get you to the Temple, and they’ll be able to help you…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry to those who wanted to see a Kenobi and Maul confrontation. This is just a very Ezra and Caleb centric fic


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Actually no prompts this chapter, just a necessary bridge towards prompts in later chapters

Ezra had no idea what was going on. 

Well, that wasn’t entirely true. He knew his master was dead. Despite his initial disbelief, Ezra had searched within himself and found the horrid black weight in the depths of his mind had been lifted. Not gone, but it was no longer being actively fueled. It was simply floating freely within his mind. 

Even though it had only been a few days… weeks?... since he had tried to kill the man himself, Ezra found himself grieving the loss. He had no idea how to navigate his life without him. He was just being passed on from room to room, people trying to talk to him and saying things he didn’t understand. He just… couldn’t connect with them.

Well… except maybe Caleb. 

Not that he was _ connecting _ with Caleb. Not really. Ezra didn’t dare try to reach for Caleb after what happened last time. But he was nice to Ezra and easy to listen to. Even if what he said didn’t make any sense, his voice and presence made everything seem a little bit more okay. His unknown future didn’t seem quite as paralyzing when he was with Caleb.

Right now, they were standing in a room high up in a tower of the Jedi Temple. Ezra was standing in the middle with Caleb and his master standing right behind him, all of them surrounded by a circle of Jedi Masters. Even surrounded by Force sensitives, Ezra felt disconnected. While in the compound in Maul, he felt like he was constantly surrounded by something sickly and cold. But these Jedi… they felt different. Their presence in the Force was warm and inviting, like the robe Caleb had given him that was now tucked away safely in a bag the clones had given him. Ezra wanted so badly to touch that warmth, to bask in it. 

But he couldn’t. The Jedi Temple might be a sea of bright and warm light, but every time he had tried to reach for it, it recoiled from him. Ezra was learning very quickly that his master was right; he was broken and no one wanted to touch him. 

A bald, brown skinned human man had a severe frown on his face as he looked Ezra over. In fact, Ezra could feel all of them circling him in the Force, poking and prodding. It made him tremble as he wondered what it is they saw. The human held up a datapad in front of him. “I want you to tell me what images are displayed on here,” he said.

Ezra swallowed. A test? No one told him he would be tested. Caleb said these people were going to help him. 

Maybe that was why he was being tested. To prove he was worthy of being helped. Ezra tried not the crumple under the knowledge that he wasn’t. 

The datapad beeped and the man looked at Ezra expectantly. Ezra bit his lip. He suppose he had to reach into the man’s mind and pull the image out. Closing his eyes, he picked the human’s mind out of the room and tried to pierce his mind. 

He was met with a violent storm, which repelled his attack back and recoiled with tremendous power. Ezra cried out and clutched his head as he fell to his knees, crying with fear as the blinding light around him circled him angry. 

“Ezra!” There was a warm hand on his back but Ezra flinched from it with a whimper. Don’t touch him. He was cold and sticky and _ wrong_…

But something was wrapped around him and his shaking body was pressed up against a warm body with a scent that Ezra was slowly starting to associate with safety. 

_ What is wrong with you?! Clinging to that warmth and light as if you _ ** _deserve_ ** _ it, smearing your filthy body all over him and - ! _

Then there was a warm hand on the side of his head, pressing gently. Ezra’s panicked crying eventually calmed to stuttered gasps, his awareness of his physical body slowly returning.

“Feel better now?”

Ezra blinked and looked around. He wasn’t in the chamber anymore. They were in an empty hallway, sitting on a bench. Two Jedi guards stood nearby, each wearing white robes and a white and gold mask as they held their lightsabers at the ready. Seeing them made Ezra tremble. Pulling back, he looked up at Caleb and saw him gazing down at him with concern. 

Disgusted with himself, Ezra pulled out of Caleb’s embrace, forcing himself to step away as he wrapped his arms around himself. “W-What are we doing here?”

“I took you out of the council chambers,” Caleb said, his voice even. “They told me I should take you to the Halls of Healing, but I wanted to make sure you calmed down first…”

Ezra swallowed compulsively and looked away. “I-I’m fine,” he mumbled. What was wrong with him? He was better than this. His master trained him to fight Jedi. He had even killed a Jedi himself!

The way she had closed her eyes and accepted her fate, her Force signature fading to nothingness, the fresh burns and muzzle around her face…

Ezra backed away from Caleb, but then he sensed the guards’ turning towards him, their grip on their sabers tightening. Ezra froze. If these Jedi ever found out what he did… What would they do to him? 

Caleb sighed and slowly stood. “C’mon. Let’s get you to Master Che.”

* * *

“That boy is dangerous,” Ki-Adi-Mundi stated.

“And what did you expect me to do?” Depa replied. “I couldn’t leave him to the local authorities. They would be nowhere near equipped to deal with a child such as Bridger.”

“Right you were, to bring him here,” Yoda agreed. “However, a difficult situation this is. I sense much fear and anger in him. Unfamiliar with the ways of the Light and the Force I fear.”

“I know that after everything that happened with Skywalker that the Council is reluctant to take in older younglings,” Depa said. “I thought that perhaps this would be a chance for us to evaluate what we can do differently. Even if Bridger can never become a true Jedi, we may be able to heal his mind and undo the damage Darth Maul inflicted.”

“You may be right,” Mace said, still looking contemplative. “But the fact remains that he _ is _ dangerous and seeped in the Dark Side. Even Skywalker was not so thoroughly corrupted when we inducted him.”

Depa sighed, remembering the day they had all decided to accept Anakin Skywalker into the Order. They had all been reserved by the fear they could sense in him, knowing that it was easy to slip from fear to anger and hate. But as the years passed, Skywalker had done well, and they had all thought that perhaps there had been nothing to fear. 

But then the war happened. Skywalker had formed a relationship and married in secret. And Chancellor Palpatine - Darth Sidious - used that secret to nearly pull Skywalker to fall completely to the Dark Side without any of them foreseeing it. While he had managed to resist Sidious’ temptation, the damage had already been done. He could no longer stay within the Order. He went into hiding with his wife and children and no one has heard from him since. 

She knew that the High Council did not want to repeat the mistakes of the past. And had Ezra been a normal Force sensitive child, she knew they would have rejected him for his age. But Ezra was simply too damaged and too dangerous for them to ignore. And none of them could bare to think of the alternative. Not for a youngling. 

“We should introduce him into a clan,” Plo said. “Monitor him carefully. And we should find a master for him as soon as possible.”

“Finding someone willing and able to take in Maul’s former apprentice will not be easy,” Ki-Adi-Mundi pointed out gravely.

“We shall see,” Mace said, looking pointedly at Depa.

She pressed her lips together, knowing exactly what he was thinking. But if he did not ask, then she would not answer.

Instead, Mace went on. “You should also caution your Padawan. He seems to have a rapidly growing attachment to the boy, which would be dangerous for both of them. He should be focusing on his training.”

Depa sighed. That was just another way of asking her the obvious. Still, she didn’t entirely disagree with her old master. Caleb _had_ been spending a lot of time with the boy. Without proper training, Bridger was likely to form a dangerous attachment to Caleb, which would only hurt him in the long run and push him further down the Dark Side. “I will speak with Caleb,” she promised.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> BTHB: Interrogation
> 
> Whumptober: 29. Numb

Ezra sat in his small quarters, buried in Caleb’s robe and staring at the blank wall across from him. He wasn’t thinking about anything. He didn’t really feel much of anything either. He was off. 

In some corner of his mind he was aware of what was going on around him. There were two guards outside, as always. No matter where Ezra went, there were always guards accompanying him. They wouldn’t speak to him or get too close, but Ezra knew they were always watching. In fact, the only time they weren’t with him was when he was in the Halls of Healing with Master Che. He met with her once a day in an isolated room where she would try to ‘fix’ him. 

It wasn’t working. Every time she tried to get him to enter a trance or to meditate, he ended up hurting her. Or someone outside he didn’t even realize was there. Once she tried to reach for him instead, but that ended even worse, with other healers having to come to her aid. 

Ezra’s eyes burned, but he quickly blinked it away. There was no point in crying. It was really all his fault. _ He _ was the one lashing out every time someone came near his mind, terrified they would see his memories and know the true extent of his crimes. 

It had been days since Ezra had last seen Caleb. He supposed he shouldn’t be too surprised. Ezra was broken, and Caleb probably had much better people to be with. Who would want to be around him more than they had to? 

These thoughts echoed in Ezra’s head, a pang of something he couldn't quite identify continuously pulsating in his chest. He curled up tighter in the robes, pressing his face into the fabric. He should be grateful. No one had so much as lifted a finger against him. No one had yelled at him or ripped into his mind. Really, after the pain he had caused, he was very lucky. 

There was a soft whoosh, and Ezra looked up to see one of the guards in his doorway. All the guards wore the same white and golden outfit and mask - even their lightsabers all seemed to be the same double sided yellow staffs - so he never knew if they were the different people or not. 

“Master Muln is here to see you.”

Ezra didn’t react. He didn’t recognize the name. But the guard stepped aside without waiting for a response, and an older human man with fair skin and brown hair walked in with a serious expression on his face. It was one Ezra was accustomed to seeing. The door closed behind the Jedi and they were left alone. 

“I am Jedi Master Garen Muln,” he said, his voice quiet and even. “I have a few questions I wish to ask you.”

Ezra just slowly blinked up at him.

The man’s frown lines deepened. “You will address me in the _ proper _ manner,” the man said, the threat thinly veiled. “You will refer to me by my title of ‘master’ and you will respond promptly to me. Do I make myself clear?”

The room got just a bit colder, and Ezra shivered. “Y-Yes, Master.”

There was a small holotable in his room, and Master Muln stepped up to it to insert a datacube. “Do you recognize this place?”

For a moment, Ezra stopped breathing as a layout of the compound came up. It was slowly rotating, showing the training area, the cell block, the isolation chambers… 

“_Answer me_.” The Jedi’s voice was quiet, but Ezra could feel a violent storm in the Force pressing against the very edges of his mind. 

“Y-Yes, M-M-Master…” he managed to say. 

“And what is this place precisely?”

It took all of Ezra’s willpower to draw a proper breath so he could respond. “I-It’s where my mas-... w-where M-Maul trained me.”

Master Muln nodded. “Good.” He clicked on the holo. “Can you tell me where this is?”

Ezra looked back at the holo, which had zoomed in to one area of the compound. “Th-That’s the cell block.”

“Good… So I’m sure you can tell me what is going on here.”

The holo shifted into a two second clip that made Ezra's blood run cold. It was the Jedi woman - chained down and muzzled, half naked and covered in burns - before Ezra jumped into the frame and buried a lightsaber into her chest. 

Ezra’s eyes flickered to Master Muln, who was practically glaring back at him. “This is you, is it not?”

All feeling drained from Ezra’s body. All he could do was nod numbly. 

The holo blinked out. “You killed my padawan. But not to worry,” he said, his voice light and unnerving. “I haven’t told anyone else. I have the only copy of this holo.” He stepped closer to the bunk until he was towering over Ezra, who shook and cowered below him. “I have informed the High Council that I will take you on as my apprentice. You will follow my every order, and I will squeeze and mold you as I see fit. Do you understand?”

Ezra nodded again, his muscles stiff. 

“In exchange… I won’t tell the Council what you did. Or more importantly…” Muln pulled up another holo image. “I won’t tell Dume what _ you _ did to his cherished childhood friend.”

An older holo expanded over the table, and Ezra choked at the image of Caleb arm in arm with two other people also clad in Jedi robes: a blue twi’lek man with a string of metal beads dangling from his lekku and… the Jedi woman Ezra had killed.

“I know you have an _ attachment _ with young Dume,” Muln sneered. “Do you know why he was even out there? He was looking for his friend. He and Tai grew up together. Her name was Tai Uzuma, by the way,” he growled. “The woman you murdered.”

Ezra couldn’t move. His brain couldn’t process any of this. He was practically vibrating out of his own body. What little semblance of a life he had was crashing and crumbling down around him. 

Master Muln suddenly grinned. “You’re afraid… Good. You should be. Turns out no one else wanted to take you on as an apprentice. No surprise there. But this means I can make you pay for what you did to my apprentice.”

The room got even colder and Ezra whimpered. He could feel Master Muln slowly pushing into his mind, grinding against Ezra's psyche like sandpaper. 

“First thing we’re going to do is get… acquainted. And I promise, whatever I do to you will be much more merciful than what the Council will do to you if they ever learn what you did.”

* * *

Sammo took another swig from the bottle before handing it off. “I can’t believe she’s gone…” 

Caleb took the bottle back, taking a long draught from it. He let out a big sigh. “Yeah… me either…” A part of him had expected this, but he had still held out hope that Tai would be alive somewhere.

The High Council had brought both of them into the tower just a few hours ago. There, Master Kenobi gave them the horrible news: Tai was dead. It looked as if Maul had kidnapped and killed her. For what purpose, only the Sith Lord knew, and now he was dead. 

“This has been… terrrrrible…” Caleb slurred. 

“Gimme that,” Sammo mumbled, taking the bottle from Caleb. “Who woulda thought that of the three of us, _ Tai _ would be the first to go…”

“Yeah… _ I’m _ the one that fought in a war! I didn’ even die once!” Caleb sighed and sagged into his bed. 

“And Tai was a better fighter than me…” Sammo said sadly. “Maul woulda killed me so easily.”

“He’ssa Sith Lord,” Caleb pointed out. “Prolly kill us _ all _ easily.”

“Fair.” Sammo took another swig of the brandy. “Not that kid though. He was a _ Sith apprentice?!_” 

Caleb sighed. These past couple of weeks have been terrible. Not only was one of his best friends dead, but he had been forbidden from seeing Ezra Bridger. Like, he got _ why_; it was for Ezra’s own good. The kid was traumatized and had been forming an attachment to Caleb too fast to be healthy. What Caleb didn’t quite realize how much _ he _ had grown attached to _ Ezra _ in just a few days. Good gods, what’s wrong with him? Was it just because he was so distraught about Tai?

“Waz gonna happen now…?” Sammo wondered idly. 

“I dunno,” Caleb groaned. “Healers’ll fix Ezra, someone’ll take ‘im in to train…” He closed his eyes. “We let go of Tai just like good Jedi.”

“Right…” Sammo rolled his eyes and sprawled on the ground. “Just let her go…”

They drank their sorrows, both eventually passing out.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Whumptober: 1. Shaky Hands, 25. Humiliation, 15. Scars

“And now focus on your spheres, and raise them a meter into the air,” Master Drallig stated. 

The other children of the Savrip Clan all easily lifted their durasteel balls into the air. Ezra swallowed, running his hand through his shortly shorn hair before extending his hands towards the ball and trying to focus on it. He took a deep breath and tried to lift it. 

The ball wiggled and rocked along the ground but wouldn’t raise off the ground. Ezra bit his lip hard. What was _ wrong _ with him? This used to be easy for him. But ever since Maul had died… Ezra had struggled to do even the most basic things. Even under Master Muln’s intense training, he just _ couldn’t _ find his center. While fear and anger had fueled him before, he found that now he was just an anxious unfocused mess. 

He heard some snickering, and he looked around to see the other Savrip Clan younglings glancing at him. They were whispering to each other, and giggling harder when they saw Ezra looking. Ezra just took a deep breath and tried to ignore them

“Struggling, Bridger?”

Ezra flinched and looked up at the elderly human master. “I-I’m sorry…” he whispered. His hands were shaking as he tried to reach out with the Force.

“Speak up if you wish to be heard,” Master Drallig said dryly. The other younglings giggled harder. “You are - theoretically - a Padawan. Show that it actually means something.”

Ezra started shaking harder. “I-I’m trying…”

“Do or do not,” one youngling said loudly. “There is no try!" 

“That doesn’t make any sense!” Ezra shouted back angrily.

An intense pressure suddenly pushed down on him through the Force and Ezra shrank back. It was coming from both Master Drallig and Master Muln who was standing in the back of the classroom. From both sides, they pulled Ezra down and away from the other students. Ezra fell to his knees, and he stared down at the ground, his shoulders trembling. 

Master Drallig looked over at Master Muln. “Perhaps you should take your _ padawan _ for some one-on-one training. He clearly needs it.”

The some of the other younglings were outright laughing now, and Ezra’s face was burning. As he sensed his master walking up to him, Ezra kept his gaze downward and stood. “I-I’m sorry…” he breathed. 

He could _feel_ Master Muln glaring down at him. “Come along, _ apprentice_.”

Ezra followed his master out of the classroom and towards his room. Master Muln did most of their training in Ezra's room. For some reason, he didn’t like to train Ezra in front of other people. 

They walked into his room, and as soon as the door closed, Master Muln smacked the back of his head. “You do remember what you are, correct?”

Ezra swallowed. _ You are useless without your master. _“I-I’m…" 

“Take your robe off.”

Ezra started shaking, his eyes burning. “M-M-Master…”

“_Now_. I think you’re in need a reminder of your place here.”

Knowing there was nothing else he could do, Ezra slowly started to remove his robes. He folded them neatly like his Master always demanded and placed them on the bed before turning towards Muln, his chest now bare. 

His master pointed towards the mirror. “Look at yourself.”

Swallowing hard, Ezra bit his lip as he turned toward the mirror and forced himself to look at the ugly scarred creature that gazed back at him. His master was standing behind him, and Ezra could only tremble as he watched Muln pull his belt off and folded it. “What are you?” Muln asked, his voice dangerously quiet.

Ezra was shaking hard as his eyes drifted down to his chest. When he was drugged and his master - no, not his master anymore - when _ Maul _ was burning him, he had carved these words into his chest under the guise of the Jedi. Ezra tried to ignore them but Muln forced him to acknowledge it almost every day. “I… I-I’m…”

Muln suddenly smacked Ezra’s arm with the belt, making him yelp and rub the affected area. “I don’t have all day,” Muln growled. 

Ezra’s vision blurred with tears, even as he tried to swallow them down. “S-Sith s-s-s-scum…” he managed to stutter/ 

“Say it again. With _ meaning_.”

He choked on his tears as he desperately kept them at bay. He didn’t know why he was so upset. Maul had done so much worse to him. Ezra had never even bled from Master Muln’s beatings. He stared at the scars on his chest, feeling as though they were sinking into his wretched being with every passing second. “I-I’m Sith scum…” Ezra repeated, his voice barely audible even to himself. 

Muln tapped his belt as he seemed to think. Then he nodded. “Put your robes back on,” he instructed. “It’s time to resume your lessons.”

Sniffling, Ezra did as instructed, bracing himself for another afternoon of grueling training. Muln had very little patience for mistakes, and forced Ezra to attempt seemingly impossible tasks for hours. Maybe he was just weak. Useless. After all he was nothing compared to Tai Uzuma. 

When they were done, Ezra was exhausted and his head was pounding with pain. Muln left with barely any acknowledgement, and Ezra let himself fall apart. He sobbed as he ran over to his small dresser and pulled out the robe. The one Caleb had given him. The one that no longer had the man’s scent but was still the only object that gave Ezra any semblance of comfort. Crying bitterly, he wrapped it around himself and laid on the bed, burrowing in the soft brown fabric.

He wanted to see Caleb again. Caleb didn’t have to talk to him or anything, but maybe just being near his Force signature would make Ezra feel that bit of warmth in himself again. 

_ You are broken. You are nothing without your master_.

* * *

Caleb kept his gaze forward, walking steadily. So long as he didn’t look suspicious, people wouldn’t think he was _ acting _ suspicious. 

Because it’s not like they were keeping Ezra under lock and key. It’s not like Caleb wasn’t free to do what he wished. They were just advising him to stay away to avoid complicating Ezra’s recovery. But after thinking about it long and hard for a few days, Caleb decided to say kriff it and go see the youngling. 

After the discovery of Anakin Skywalker’s wife and children - a discovery that had ended with the war hero’s departure from the Order - it had given Caleb a lot of pause for thought. Threads of confusion and reevaluation had occupied many of his days. He talked out many of these threads with his master, but even then it was difficult to unravel. Caleb had always questioned many of the traditions of the Order, particularly those that seemed to have no rhyme or reason to them. Before the Skywalker Incident, he was simply told that was just how things were. 

But as he got older, Caleb had began to realize that maybe the Jedi Order wasn’t a perfect paragon of ideology. That maybe they got some things _ wrong_. After all, Anakin Skywalker still became a great Jedi despite having a family. Hell, even Master Ki-Adi-Mundi had wives, even if it was just for biological reasons, and _ he_ was a member of the High Council. 

It made him wonder… What was so bad about having attachments? He was literally bonded with his master, and even she had admitted to him that personal relationships can be good and healthy. The important thing to remember was that you had to have the ability to let go when the circumstances demanded it.

Caleb paused in his tracks, his chest aching as he thought of Tai. Letting go didn’t mean forgetting, and yet he couldn’t help but feel that letting go of Tai did mean losing a part of himself. The part that had held Tai as a friend for years, through thick and thin. 

He steeled himself and continued to move forward. The members of the High Council, while powerful and accomplished Jedi, were still just people. They weren’t infallible. Maybe, just maybe, they were wrong.

The Temple seemed to be constantly in a flurry of rumors about Ezra ever since he had arrived. As such, it was easy to learn where he was. Even though Master Muln took Ezra on as an apprentice, he didn’t stay in the companion room adjacent Muln’s private quarters. Ezra was still staying in an Initiate room on the far side of the wing. 

Honestly, everything about the situation was strange. Most people believed that Master Muln took Ezra in because of grief or guilt over what happened to Tai. But it was curious that he didn’t seem to be training Ezra in the typical ways. Staying separate from Ezra, yet observing him closely during all his lessons… No one has ever seen them training in the gardens or at the training grounds. 

Of course, given the circumstances, maybe Ezra needed some form of specialized training. 

It was obvious which room was Ezra’s. There were two Temple guards standing on either side of his door. Caleb’s stomach squirmed at the sight of them. He had heard that Ezra had occasionally been lashing out and that the Council wanted to make sure Ezra didn’t hurt anyone or himself… but it felt wrong to see them guarding the room of a nine year old boy.

He straightened his back and squared his shoulders. “I want to see Ezra.”

As expected, the guards stood silently to the side. Ezra wasn’t a prisoner. Caleb stepped forward and knocked on the door. “Ezra? It’s me, Caleb.”

There was a loud thump followed by the sound of quick movement. A moment later, the door hissed open and Ezra had a hesitant smile as he up at him. “C-Caleb?!”

Caleb smiled. “Hey kid…” Then his smile faded as he took Ezra in. His face was splotchy and his eyes were swollen. He had been crying. He was also trembling slightly as he wrung his hands together.

Ezra was swallowing compulsively as he looked up at Caleb in confusion. “W-W-W-What a-a-are…?” he blushed as he fumbled over his words.

“What am I doing here?” Caleb finished for him. Ezra nodded. “I wanted to check up on you. Can I come in?”

Ezra blinked at the question. Then he quickly stepped aside.

Caleb walked inside, the door closing behind him. It was a typical initiate room. The furniture and furnishings were various shades of neutral colors. There was no sign of any personalization, which wasn’t too unusual. He returned his attention to Ezra, who was fiddling with his sleeve. “Is… everything okay?”

Ezra quickly nodded. He was avoiding eye contact and rocking from foot to foot. 

With a small sigh, Caleb sat on one end of Ezra’s bed and patted the spot next to him. “Come sit.” Ezra did so, and Caleb’s frown deepened. Ezra’s hair had been cut short now, but he still didn’t have a padawan braid. Before, Ezra’s hair had been more than long enough to sport a natural one. “How goes your training with Master Muln?”

Ezra ducked his head. “N… N-Not g-g-great…” he admitted quietly.

Caleb hummed, nodding slowly. He had no idea what kind of life or training Ezra had had with Maul, but he imagined it was nothing like life in the Order. “Muln giving you a hard time? I know Tai used to say that Muln was a bit of a hardass.”

Ezra suddenly stiffened, glancing over at Caleb with wide eyes. 

“Oh… has he not told you? Tai used to be Master Muln’s padawan.” Caleb gazed at the wall across from them. “She… died recently. So if Muln’s giving you a hard time, don’t take it too personally. It’s not your fault.”

Ezra was shaking now, the Force energy around him quivering in agitation. Caleb frowned at this. “Kid? Are you okay…?”

He placed a hand on Ezra’s shoulder, but Ezra flinched away. “S-S-Sssorry…!”

“Hey, it’s okay..." Muln must have not told Ezra. Caleb supposed he shouldn’t be surprised. It would be difficult to talk about, especially to a kid. “Muln can be a bit of a moofhead, but Tai always said that he means well.”

Ezra was still trembling as he curled up on himself and stared at his lap.

“How about this?” Caleb said. “Maybe I can start to help you practice your training.”

“I…” Ezra frowned and glanced up at Caleb. 

“Yeah… Maybe some extra practice with me, and you’ll start to get the hang of your exercises better, and Muln will get off your case.”

Ezra started to relax slightly. “R-R-Really? Y-You’d d-do that…?”

“Of course! At some point I’ll become a full Jedi and take on padawans of my own, so it’ll be good practice for me anyway!”

Ezra gave a small smile, and Caleb couldn’t help but smile in return. He was now convinced that he had made the right decision in coming here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, Muln is a bastard. 
> 
> Look, if masters are capable of killing their own padawans in KOTOR, I feel it's not so ridiculous that some Jedi masters are abusive asshats.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> BTHB: Treasured Possession Destroyed
> 
> Whumptober: 2. Explosion, 16. Pinned down

Depa watched as Mace poured her a cup of tea. From the smell of it, it was one of her favorite brews from when she was young. “What’s the special occasion?”

“Nothing special,” Mace said, sitting across from her. “I wanted to speak with you about something of a… personal nature.”

Depa took the cup and gently blew over it before taking a sip. She knew what this was about but decided to simply follow Mace’s lead in the conversation.

“Master Che and Master Muln gave us another report on Bridger’s progress,” Mace stated. 

“Oh?”

“Master Che says the boy is being resistant. She’s stopped trying to directly treat his mind and has begun talk therapy, guiding him through some fundamental Jedi principles. Master Muln’s report was similar; Bridger’s connection to the Dark Side is very strong, and he has been struggling to guide Bridger away from it.”

“It’s only been a month,” Depa pointed out. “I’m sure Che and Muln will figure it out.”

Mace hummed. “They are both very capable Jedi. However, their experience with the Dark Side is limited at best.”

Depa chuckled. “If only you weren’t on the High Council. You would have made a perfect master for him.”

“Perhaps…” Mace said, looking at his former apprentice evenly. She gazed right back at him, practically daring him to ask the question. Finally, he sighed. “How has Caleb been doing?”

“As well as you would expect,” Depa said. “Still grieving the loss of his friend. Although I think his visits with Bridger have been helping.”

As she predicted, Mace frowned. “Caleb has been seeing Bridger?”

“Yes,” she said evenly. “And yes, I did in fact caution him away from it, but Caleb is stubborn. I believe he feels a small amount of responsibility for the boy since he was the one who found him.”

“He needs to be careful,” Mace stressed. “We still don’t know what the boy is capable of, and with his mind so shredded, Bridger could end up influencing Caleb without him realizing it.”

“I am aware of that,” Depa said. “But Caleb is more than capable of safeguarding himself. His control over the Living Force has surpassed even mine. He will be fine.”

Mace pressed his lips together. “I have no doubt… Which does beg the question: Why hasn’t he taken the Trials yet?”

And there it was. Depa looked down and took another sip of her tea. This question has been floating around her for nearly a year now, but she had been deliberately ignoring it. 

“Ever since the beginning, you have spoken very highly of Caleb. And he has always been talented with both his control of the Force and the blade. You have repeatedly expressed how impressed you were with his quick progression.”

She simply nodded, still focusing on her tea. That was all true. Caleb was perhaps one of the most naturally skilled Jedi she had ever known besides Skywalker. His connection to the Light and his natural rejection of the Dark was almost uncanny at times. She knew that struggle had been ongoing for most of the other Commanders of the Clone Wars.

“Do you believe he’s not ready?” Mace asked.

Depa opened her mouth only to shut it again without a word. The truth was that Caleb was more than ready. He has been for a while. But Caleb did not seem anxious to go through with the Trials yet, so she saw no reason to push him. At least… that’s what she told herself. 

There was suddenly a frantic knock on the door. “Master Windu? Are you in there?”

Mace got up and answered it, revealing one of the Temple guards. “What is it?” Mace asked. 

“It’s Bridger…” the guard said. “He’s attacked some of the students.”

* * *

Ezra was keeping his head down as he grabbed some food. For the most part, people would stay away from him, but sometimes kids liked to poke or shove at him. He was pretty sure they wanted to see if he was really as scary as all the rumors made him out to be. Ezra honestly had no idea. He supposed the scars made him scary. No one else seemed to have any. 

Sometimes it almost got to be too much. He had lost track of the number of times he wanted to shove back at these younglings. He knew he could easily kill most of them. Or at the very least hurt them. But that would be the end of him. So he just had to bear it. At least now he had something to look forward to. Tonight Caleb was going to come and help him with his exercises again. 

Ezra sighed as he sat down in an isolated corner, poking at his food. He wished Caleb could be his master. Ezra had learned more from him in the last few days than all of the time he had spent with Muln. And Caleb was _nice_ to him. When he smiled, Ezra got the impression he was actually _ happy _ to see Ezra. It wasn’t something he was accustomed to. 

But Caleb was still a padawan; an apprentice himself. He had explained that he wasn’t allowed to take on an padawan until he had passed the Jedi Trials. And even then… Ezra was Muln’s student. 

Ezra wilted in his seat. Even if Caleb _could_ take Ezra in, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to hide the truth forever. As much as he loved being around Caleb, it was also exhausting having to keep his mind back and far away from Caleb’s to make sure he didn’t get so much as a whiff of what Ezra had done. Because the moment Caleb learned that it was actually _ him _ who had killed his friend… Caleb would want nothing to do with him. 

His tray of food suddenly launched off his table. Ezra jumped back in surprise, looking over to see several members of his clan standing around the table, cornering him. His tray and food were splattered at their feet. “Hey!” one kid said. “You wanna play a game?”

Ezra swallowed and shook his head. He fell for this before. It ended with them abandoning him in an unfamiliar part of the Temple. It resulted in one of the worst beatings from Master Muln when he finally found him, accusing Ezra of trying to run away. 

So instead of engaging, Ezra kept his head down as he got up and tried to walk past them. But two kids grabbed him by the arms and shoved him back. Ezra looked around, trying to find the guards who were usually nearby.

“Temple Guards can’t protect you all the time,” one togruta boy sneered. “You’re just sith scum.”

Ezra flinched violently at the insult, a small hot coal beginning to burn in his belly. “L-Leave me alone…” he muttered, trying to walk past them again.

He was pushed back again, this time by a couple of the other kids using the Force. Ezra grit his teeth. “S-Stop it!”

They started laughing. “Why don't you make us?” one human girl teased. 

“We just wanna play~” the togruta boy reached into his bag and pulled out a large piece of fabric out. Shaking it out, it was obviously a typical Jedi robe, but this one was sized for an adult.

Ezra froze, his skin going numb. “H-How…?”

“I hear you snuggle this thing like a _ blankie_. Not sure which Jedi you stole it from, but they probably don’t want it back now that you’ve gotten your grossness all over it...”

“I-I d-didn’t st-st-steal it!”

“O-Oh r-r-really?” a human boy mocked.

Ezra’s face was burning, his vision blurring with hot tears. “G-Give it b-b-back!” He tried to jump for it, but the boy stepped aside, and Ezra crumbled to the ground. 

The togruta waved it mockingly in the air. “Come on~ Don’t you want your blankie back?” The other kids’ laughter only got louder. Ezra was panting and shaking. What did they want from him?

That’s when one kid pulled out a vibroblade, turning it on with a wicked grin. “You know attachments are forbidden, right?”

He stabbed the robe and Ezra scrambled to his feet. “S-S-Stop!” He tried grabbing it again, but the others pulled apart, the blade slicing through the fabric and ripping it into two pieces. 

Ezra’s ears began to ring, the laughter and jeering fading into white noise as he watched them slice the robe into frayed ribbons. His chest felt like it was splitting open and he struggled to breathe. He squeezed his eyes shut, but it didn’t stop the tears from streaking down his face. 

Like a collapsing star, he shrank in on himself, his sense of self roiling in the cold darkness of his mind. He couldn’t take this. He was constantly surrounded by all this light and warmth that refused to touch him, and now the one thing that made him feel like he wasn’t completely tainted and _ wrong _ was in pieces on the ground. 

Something deep inside of him suddenly snapped. The coals in his stomach exploded and Ezra screamed so loudly it made his entire body shake. His fear and anger poured out of him like icy hot lava as he screamed into the ground.

His voice suddenly cracked and he stopped screaming, sagging as he gasped for air and his awareness returned. He opened his eyes and looked up, trying to make sense of what he was seeing. 

All of the tables and chairs looked to have been blown away from him. The other children of the Savrip Clan - and in fact several other nearby people - were all knocked back, a couple crying and the others looked to be unconscious.

Did… did he do this?

He yelped as he was suddenly shoved to the ground, a tight hand on his wrists as they pinned them to his back. “Don’t move!” By reflex, Ezra tried to push back, but the Temple guard retaliated by yanking his arm up painfully. “I said don’t move!”

“I-I-I’m sorry…!” He didn't mean to do this. He wasn’t even sure what he _ did… _

“Quiet!” A stab of pain shot through Ezra’s arm, making him whimper. The guard shifted so his knee was square on Ezra’s back, using his body weight to keep Ezra down. “Go get Master Muln!”

Ezra’s breathing quickened and his chest tightened in panic. If his master saw what he just did... Ezra couldn't even fathom what Muln would do to him. "P-Please..." he whimpered.

A heavy pressure was suddenly pressed on his mind in retaliation, and Ezra couldn't help but sob. Fear and hate were all pressing down in to him, as if trying to grind him into dust. He forced himself to go limp both in body and mind, accepting that whatever was about to happen... he deserved it. 


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> BTHB: Self-harm
> 
> Whumptober: 6. Dragged Away, 26. Abandoned, 7. Isolation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanna address a couple things real quick: 
> 
> I know I'm really putting Ezra through the wringer here, but I want to reiterate that this fic is much more about self-indulgence than it is about good story telling. My tags are what they are for a reason. Because of the nature of whumptober, the Jedi Order is a bit OOC to accommodate that. Though I'd like to think I'm still in the same vein of how the Jedi Order would have reacted to a Sith child. 
> 
> That being said... this chapter is the last where bad things are deliberately done to Ezra. After this, the angst/whump comes from Ezra's coping/recovery process.

“M-Master…”

“Silence,” Muln said, his hand tightening around Ezra’s arm. 

Ezra just swallowed and tried to keep up with him. He felt like his master was going to yank his arm right out of his socket. He knew what that felt like, and he didn’t want it happening now. Whatever his master was about to do with him… Ezra wanted to be as prepared as possible. 

He had no idea where they were going. Muln had simply dragged him from the commissary, not even looking at Ezra as the Temple guard passed him off. Ezra still wasn’t even sure what _had_ happened. All he knew was that he had hurt a bunch of people… He had lost control. 

“I-I d-d-didn’t m-mean…!”

“I said _ silence!_”

Wherever they were going, other Jedi didn’t seem to congregate in this section of the Temple. It had been minutes since they last saw anyone. All Ezra could tell was that they were going downward, from staircase to staircase… until they finally reached a large durasteel door. This place seemed almost abandoned, a layer of grime and dust on the ground and the control panel. Master Muln used the sleeve of his robe to wipe it off before working the controls. There was a loud clanking before the durasteel doors opened with a loud groan. 

Muln yanked on Ezra's arm again as he dragged him into the dark hallway which was only dimly lit. Most of the lights appeared to be broken. 

Ezra couldn’t help the whimper that escaped as the door closed behind them. It was like a switch had been flipped as the normally bright and warm energy of the Temple suddenly vanished. All Ezra could sense was Muln's signature that circled him like an angry animal.

“Back when Sith infested our galaxy like roaches, we needed a place to contain them.” Muln continued to drag Ezra along as he spoke. “After all, we are Jedi and we do not kill even the most _ deserving _ of dark siders.”

They reached the end of the hallway, and Muln opened up the last door, revealing a small dark room with a bare bunk, a small sink, and a toilet. He pushed Ezra inside, who stumbled and fell to the ground. “This seems like the perfect place for a Sith child to contemplate his actions.” The door hissed shut and Ezra was plunged into complete darkness. 

Ezra keened and shivered as the temperature seemed to lower several degrees. He scrambled around until he found the wall, curling up against it in an effort to stave off the cold. He kept looking around, searching for some stray bit of light he could focus on, but there was nothing. All there was was the sound of his own harsh breathing and the ever-present cold and slime of his own Force signature echoing back onto him from seemingly all directions. He sobbed, grabbing the sides of his face and trying to convince himself that he was still here. That he existed beyond his shattered mind. 

Digging his fingers into his skin, he moaned in relief at the feeling of sharp pain. It grounded him. He was still here. This pain was good. He deserved it. He was a murderer. He was Sith scum. He was worth nothing, nothing, nothing…

* * *

Caleb and Sammo had been coaching some younger Padawans on the defensive series of Form III when Caleb heard two off-duty Temple guards walking along the edge of the training grounds. Normally Caleb would easily tune them out, but they said two words which drew his attention: 

_ Sith boy _

While the Council and - most - of the masters disapproved of the term, it had endured throughout the Temple as Ezra's main moniker. It filled Caleb with anger every time he heard it. Apparently, Ezra’s _actual_ name was just too hard to remember. 

Sammo had obviously heard it as well, as he gave Caleb a warning look. Caleb had been getting himself into more trouble than usual from talking back to some of the Jedi Knights, but he didn’t care. Ezra didn’t deserve the reputation he had. He was a sweet kid who was genuinely trying his hardest. It wasn’t Ezra’s fault he had been kidnapped and trained by a Sith Lord. 

“I wasn’t there but apparently he just _exploded_,” one guard said. “Most of the Savrip younglings have concussions. One even broke an arm.” 

“Well, I suppose it was only a matter of time…”

“Yeah, Zyn managed to pin him down before he could do more damage. And Master Muln got there in record time to take him away. Boy should be kept away from the other younglings if you ask me...”

The guards walked out of Caleb’s earshot, but he had heard enough. He turned to Sammo, who nodded. “Go. I’ve got things handled here.”

Caleb gave a smile of thanks before sprinting off towards Master Muln’s quarters. He hoped Master Muln would let him talk to Ezra, just to check and see that he was okay. When he got there, he took a few deep breaths, straightening out his robes before knocking on the door. 

A moment later, the door opened to reveal a solemn Master Muln. “Ah, Padawan Dume. How may I help you?”

“Master,” Caleb gave a polite bow. “I heard what happened, and I wanted to check in on Ezra.”

“I see. I have been told you have taken in interest in… young Bridger.”

Caleb blinked at the way Muln said Ezra’s name. “I… was the one who found him, and I’ve grown fond of him.”

Master Muln hummed. “Yes, well young Bridger committed a serious act today, losing control and injuring several Jedi in the process. I have him meditating in order to contemplate his control.”

Caleb squirmed a little, feeling very uncomfortable by the way Muln was speaking. “Oh… Well, how is he doing? Can I see him?”

“I think it would be best if he was left alone for now. I’m going to keep him isolated for a few days in order to focus on his training. I will inform your master when he’s ready for visitors.”

Caleb nodded slowly, but his instincts were starting to scream at him. The Force was poking and prodding at him to pay attention, to understand why this all felt so wrong to him. 

Then he realized couldn’t actually _sense_ Ezra. While Caleb did keep his shields fortified around Ezra, he could usually still feel Ezra’s presence when he was near. It was a small spot of warmth in his mind that he had started to associate with Ezra. Right now it was just cold. 

“Where is Ezra?” Caleb asked again.

Muln’s eyes narrowed. “He is in his room under guard. Please do what is best for Ezra and leave him be.” With that, Muln closed the door, leaving Caleb standing in the hallway.

He forced himself to move. He walked, then jogged, then ran towards Ezra’s quarters. Kriff Muln’s orders. He just wanted to see Ezra. 

He stopped in his tracks when he rounded the corner to the initiate wing. He could see Ezra’s room at the end of the hallway, but there were no guards. And as much as Caleb hated that they were hovering over him all the time… why wouldn’t they be here now? As he walked closer, his stomach got tighter and tighter as he realized he couldn’t sense Ezra at all. 

Muln had lied to him. But why?


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> BTHB: Hypothermia
> 
> Whumptober: 14. Tear-Stained, 17. “Stay with Me”, 20. Trembling

Truth was, Caleb didn’t care why Muln had lied to him. All he cared about was finding Ezra. And the only way he knew how was to trust the Force. Finding a private corner, Caleb knelt to the ground and found his center. He focused on thoughts of Ezra, of his nervous and shy demeanor, the threads of warm connection…

Caleb opened his eyes and frowned. It couldn’t be… A bond? No, that was impossible. Right? But it was so similar to the bond he shared with his master. The warmth and illogical certainty that he _ knew _ Ezra… 

Oh gods. It _ was _ a bond. Thinking back on it now, it had formed the moment before he had even _ found _ Ezra. The singing, the certainty in his actions… it was so similar to when he first saw his master, floating in that bacta tank. 

He clenched his fists. Kriff Muln. He was going to find Ezra. He stood and took a deep breath, concentrating of the threads of their bond. They were weak, but he could practically see them leading the way through the Temple. Once he got a solid grip on it, his gaze hardened as he began to follow. It was leading him downward, into the depths of the Temple. Even as his normal Force senses told him there was nothing to follow, that there was no signatures in the area he was headed… the bond told him otherwise. 

Even though this section of the Temple was effectively abandoned, Caleb was quite familiar with it. Tai would bring him and Sammo down here in order to drink and hang out. But that was years ago before they became old enough to could get away with it in their own rooms. 

But the bond was pulling him further down than he’s ever been before. The deeper he got, the sicker he felt. He knew what was down here: storage, old command centers… and a prison meant to hold Sith. 

Caleb broke out into a run. Muln wouldn’t… He wouldn’t be _ that _ cruel. Those cells were specifically designed to suppress Force abilities, to cut them off from the Living Force. To put a Force sensitive _ child _ into that kind of cell…

He arrived at the entrance to the prison, seeing the grime and dust that had been recently wiped off the control panel. His lip curling, he hit the panel and opened the door to reveal a long hallway. Only a few lights flickered on, most broken with old age. Caleb ran down the length of the hallway, reaching out as he tried to find Ezra. The Force damping walls were oppressive and draining, but he could still sense Ezra through the bond. 

The end of the hallway. The last cell. Caleb hit the control panel. 

He was suddenly brought to his knees by the violent storm of sharp screaming _ anguish _. Caleb moaned as his eyes watered with pain. Squeezing them shut, he pressed his palms to his face as he took a couple deep breaths and fortified his shields. Once he composed himself, he wiped the tears from his face and looked into the cell.

The cell itself was completely in darkness, but there was just enough light streaming in from the hallway to see the small trembling body curled up in the far corner. 

“Ezra!” Caleb ran in and fell to his knees in front of him. His heart was pounding in his ears as he saw the blood streaking Ezra’s face. “Oh gods, Ezra…” He placed a hand on Ezra’s cheek. “Kriff, you’re freezing!” His memory seemed to echo as he pulled off his outer robe robe and wrapped it around the boy, gathering him into his chest.

Ezra’s eyes were half-lidded, and he gave a weak moan as Caleb moved him. His bloodshot eyes were moving but unfocused. “I-I-I-I…”

“Shh, it’s okay…” Caleb said softly, internally panicking. He was rubbing Ezra’s back and arms through his robe, trying to warm him up. Blood and tears had streaked down his face and stained his cheeks. It wasn’t until Caleb saw the dried blood on Ezra finger tips that he realized that Ezra had been clawing at his own face. 

Ezra gave a small whimper as he curled against Caleb’s chest, shaking hard. Caleb gently pressed one hand against Ezra’s cheek, running a thumb through the dried tear tracks. His skin was ice cold. This prison’s air was stale and several degrees colder than the rest of the Temple, and Caleb had no idea how long Ezra had been shut in here.

Caleb’s stomach lurched as Ezra’s eyes began to drift close with a weak moan. “Hey hey, stay with me…!” He patted at boy’s cheek. This was bad. This was so so so bad. What was he supposed to do? He had to take Ezra to healers. Holding Ezra tightly to his chest, he got up and began to run up to the Halls of Healing…

Then he paused, looking down at the child in his arms. The state of Ezra’s mind was hardly any better than it had been a month ago when Caleb had first found him. He thought about the vast disdain the Jedi of the Temple had for Ezra, Muln’s now obvious neglect…

He had to get Ezra away from here. But where could he go?

Caleb’s grip on Ezra tightened, a plan forming in his head. He didn’t want to involve anyone from the Temple. Not unless he had to. Which left him with only one choice… He shifted Ezra so he was being held up by only one arm, digging into his pocket for his comm. He tuned it to the right frequency and hailed it. “C’mon, c’mon…” he murmured. 

“_Caleb? Everything alright?_”

“Mixx, I need your help, and you can’t tell _ anyone_, not even Master Billaba. Can you meet me in the lower hanger bay in the _ Survivor_?”

There was a stretch of silence. “_Caleb, what did you get yourself into…?_”

“Mixx, _ please_, this is an emergency. I promise I’ll explain everything in person.”

He heard Mixx sigh. “_Alright, kid. I’ll be there in ten minutes._”

Caleb nearly collapsed in relief. “Thanks, Mixx.” He tucked the comm away and grasped Ezra more securely before running toward the hanger bay.

“I-I’m ssssorry…” Ezra breathed against his neck.

“Shh,” Caleb hushed. He tentatively tried to reach across the bond between them, the same way he had so many times with his master. It was easy, seeking out Ezra’s center buried deep in the maelstrom of cold and sickly emotions. Without breaking stride, Caleb very slowly lowered his shields, just enough he could reach out to Ezra… 

In his mind’s eye, he was floating in the center of a storm. It was dark and cold, and in the very middle, there was a small child of no older than five. He was curled up and quietly weeping. 

Caleb drifted towards him, ignoring the violent threads whipping around them. He stayed just within arm reach, trying to warm the space with his own energy. The child had his face buried in his arms which were crossed over his knees, trembling as he cried.

“Just stay with me…” Caleb said softly. “I’m going to make this right. I promise.”


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> BTHB: Bruises
> 
> Whumptober: 24. Secret Injury, Altno. 15 Field Medicine

Mixx stood on the ramp of the _ Survivor_, scanning the bay for any sign of Caleb. If the kid was able to walk himself to the ship, he couldn’t be _ too _ injured, which gave Mixx a little bit of comfort. Still, the fact that Caleb wanted to keep this secret from his own master… That did not bode well. So either Caleb had done something extremely stupid and was too embarrassed to let the General know, or there was something _ very _ serious going on.

Unfortunately, from Caleb’s tone, Mixx suspected it was the latter. He knew the kid’s tells. He didn’t sound like a teenager who had gotten himself into an embarrassing mess. He sounded desperate and panicked. 

His eyes scanned over the lower hanger bay. It was virtually empty. In the past, this hanger was used primarily for diplomatic convoys. Then during the war it was where the Clone ships would dock while their generals dealt with business here at home. 

Nowadays, most clones had retired, using their modest Republic stipend to go off and live something that approximated a ‘normal’ life. Then there were those like Mixx, the clones that had fought side by side with their generals since the beginning of the war. After nearly two years of intense internal debate, the Jedi Council agreed to pay the clones a salary to continue working for the Jedi. They were even given access to the Halls of Healing for their health problems associated with their accelerated aging bodies.

So now this lower hanger was used for the few clones who visited the Temple. Right now, the _ Survivor _ was the only ship here. Mixx and Grey were the only ones still working for directly for General Billaba, and Grey was currently in the Halls of Healing getting treatment for his post traumatic stress. Besides Grey, Styles was the only other clone Mixx had stayed in contact with over the years. He lived in a small apartment not far from the Temple. Despite Mixx’s insistence, he refused to get treatment for his PTSD. Instead he constantly ‘self-medicated’ with alcohol and sex.

Mixx sighed, pulled out of his thoughts when he saw Caleb walking in, carrying something in his arms. When he saw the small feet dangling over one of Caleb’s arms, Mixx’s stomach dropped. He had a very bad feeling about this. 

Caleb jogged over. “Mixx…” 

He glanced down at the boy in the kid’s arms before putting a hand on Caleb back. “C’mon. Let’s take him to the medbay while you explain what’s happened.”

“Master Muln… he locked Ezra up in the Sith prison…” Caleb’s voice was shaking. 

Mixx frowned. “Sith prison?" 

“We haven’t used it in thousands of years, not since the Great Sith War.” Caleb grimaced in anger. “He just shoved Ezra into one of the cells without even turning the light on…”

They got into the medbay and Caleb gently put Ezra down on one of the tables. The kid was trembling, despite being engulfed in Caleb’s robes. Dried blood had streaked down from deep scratches along his hairline. “What happened here?” Mixx asked Ezra softly.

Ezra’s eyes were slightly unfocused as he looked towards Mixx. Then he quickly looked down and leaned closer to Caleb. 

“I think he did it himself,” Caleb said quietly, his anger barely veiled as he pointed to Ezra’s bloodied fingernails.

Mixx nodded, pulling out some pads and bacta. “Let’s get you cleaned up, alright? Now, this might sting a little…” The kid was a champ as Mixx slowly wiped the tear stains and blood off his cheeks then tended to the scratches. They weren’t as bad as they looked at a first glance, but the fact that they were self-inflicted was deeply concerning. 

Mixx finished putting on the small bacta patches on Ezra’s scratches before starting to clean Ezra’s hands. Then he paused when he noticed a bit of darkened skin peeking out from under the Ezra's sleeves. With a small frown, Mixx pushed Ezra’s sleeve up. 

Ezra suddenly pulled his arm back, his eyes widening. 

Mixx quickly pulled back. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you… But if you’re hurt, I can help make you feel better.”

Caleb frowned, leaning forward to look down at Ezra. “What is it?”

Ezra’s breathing quickened as he pulled his and Caleb’s sleeves down over his hands. “N-N-Nothing…”

His frown deepening, Caleb stood to get a better look at the boy. “Ezra, are you hiding something?”

Ezra began trembling harder, scooting back away from both Mixx and Caleb. He kept his sleeves held down tightly. When Caleb placed a hand on Ezra’s shoulder, Ezra flinched back with a whimper. “I-I try… I-I promise I t-try really hard…!”

“Try what, Ezra? What’s going on?”

“Kid, we’re not going to be mad,” Mixx promised. “We just want to make sure you’re okay. If you’re hurt, we’ll need to make sure you’re properly treated.”

Ezra looked down, picking at his sleeves. Then with a soft sniffle, he wiped his eyes and shakily pulled his sleeves up to reveal rows of bruises striped up and down his arms. Caleb stared down at them with wide eyes. “How did those happen?” he asked, his anger thinly veiled. 

Ezra flinched back, and Mixx gave Caleb a soft glare. Caleb flinched. “I’m not angry at you…” Caleb assured. “I just want to know what happened.”

Mixx gently took Ezra’s arm and slowly turned it over to look at the injuries. These weren’t self inflicted like the scratches. Mixx recognized this pattern of injury. “Ezra... who did this to you?”

Caleb glanced at Mixx before looking back down at Ezra in horror.

“M-Master Muln,” Ezra said quietly. “I-I keep m... m-m-messing up…”

Caleb suddenly turned and took a few steps away, his shoulders shaking. Mixx knew he was trying to hide his anger. For himself, Mixx focused on treating the injuries. A bit of perigen cream would make them heal faster and reduce the pain. 

Ezra was crying softly, his body limp as Mixx did his work. Poor youngling was obviously exhausted and emotionally wrung. Mixx couldn’t even imagine the state of this child’s mind after everything he has been through. With a sigh, Mixx pulled out a small pill and grabbed Ezra a glass of water. “Here, take this.” 

Ezra blinked sluggishly at it. 

“It’ll just help you sleep. I promise.”

With another slow blink, Ezra nodded and took it wordless, downing the entire glass of water. Mixx helped Ezra lay down and pulled a thick blanket over him. “Just try to get some rest.”

With a soft sigh, Ezra buried his face into Caleb’s robe, his eyes slowly drifting close as the drug helped him fall asleep.

“I have to get him out of here.”

Mixx turned to see Caleb gazing down at Ezra, his fists clenched. “You mean out of the Temple?”

Caleb was shaking with anger. “Everyone here treats Ezra like he’s this disgusting _ thing _ to avoid. People tell me that I had developed a dangerous attachment and that I should stay away, but Ezra is a _ kid_. This isn’t right… none of this is right!” 

“Have you spoken to the General about this?”

He turned to Mixx with a pained expression. “Not… exactly.”

Mixx raised an eyebrow. “What has her attitude been toward Ezra?”

“Oh, _ nothing _ like that! And it’s not everyone. There are plenty of Jedi who just… don’t care. Ignore Ezra even exists…” Caleb sighed. “And the _ one _ person who was supposed to be taking care of him has been _ beating _ him?!” Caleb scowled and ran his hand through his hair. “Ezra can’t stay here. I can’t throw him back to that _ bastard_. Mixx, you have to help me.”

“I… think you should talk to your master first. I’m sure she can make sure Ezra is taken care of…”

“Mixx, _ look at him! _ He’s been here for a month, and he’s no better than when I first saved him! I can _ see _ the state of his mind, and it’s _awful!_ What are those mind healers _ doing?!_” Caleb shook his head. “No, I just need to get him out of here.”

Mixx slowly nodded. Caleb had a valid point. Ezra was in a terrible state both physically and mentally. It was probably a good idea to get him away. At least for a little while. “Alright. I know a place you and Ezra can stay. But you have to promise me that you’ll speak with the General.”

Caleb’s shoulders sagged. “Fine… I promise.”


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Whumptober: 31. Embrace

Ezra came back to awareness feeling safe and warm. But stranger still was he couldn’t sense the near constant pressure of the Force of the Jedi Temple pressing down on him. He curled more tightly in Caleb’s robe, burying his face in it and taking in the comforting scent.

_ The blade slicing through the fabric, the robe falling to the ground in frayed ribbons... _

Ezra’s eyes snapped open, and he was greeted with the unfamiliar sight of of rusted durasteel and dirty carpet. He shakily sat up, looking around and trying to figure out what was going on. 

“Ezra, you’re awake.”

He flinched before snapping his head to the side to see Caleb standing at the foot of the bed. Ezra squeaked and tried to scrambled backward only to get stuck in a tangle of fabric. He was shaking, trying to remember how he could have ended up here with _ Caleb_.

“Hey hey, it’s okay…” Caleb came over and knelt by the bed. “You’re safe here.”

Ezra stilled as a strange sense of calm came over him. He could _ feel _ Caleb next to him, in a way Ezra couldn’t really sense other people. He wasn’t hurting Caleb? Every time someone else tried to lower their shields or brush up against his signature, all it seemed to do is hurt them. 

Caleb pressed his hand to Ezra’s cheek and Ezra let out a small moan, leaning into the touch without thinking. Caleb’s hand was slightly calloused but warm against his skin. Then Ezra’s eyes started to burn, but he had no idea why. He pulled back and quickly wiped at his eyes. “I-I’m sorry…”

“No, it’s fine Ezra…” 

Ezra blinked, then reached up to touch his face when he felt a pull. There were bandages. Then he looked around the dingy apartment they were in. “W-Where are we…?”

“Just a few klicks from the Temple, in my friend’s place. After what Muln did to you, I wanted to get you out of there.”

Ezra choked and shivered, remembering the cold dark nothingness that had leached into his very bones in that prison. 

_ You deserved it after hurting all those Jedi _…

Ezra curled into himself. Did Caleb even know why Ezra was in there? Why Muln was punishing Ezra? He gripped the edges of the robe tightly, knowing he didn’t deserve it but unable to bring himself to part with it. 

Caleb reached forward and grabbed Ezra’s hands, rubbing his fingers over Ezra’s cold knuckles. “Why didn’t you tell me Master Muln was hitting you?” he asked quietly.

Ezra frowned. Why would Caleb need to know that? "I d-d-deserved..."

“_No_, Ezra, there’s nothing you could do to deserve this.”

Ezra squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head. Caleb had no idea. He didn’t know all of the terrible things Ezra had done. 

“Ezra, stop!” 

He opened his eyes to see Caleb holding his wrists and pulling his hands away from his face. Ezra blinked as he realized he had been pulling at his bandages. Caleb was gazing at him with worry. “Kid…” He slowly moved up to sit next to him on the bed. 

Ezra closed his eyes and stiffened, waiting for the reprimands and blows. But instead, a pair of warm arms wrapped around him and pulled him in against Caleb’s chest. Ezra blinked in surprise, realizing that this felt familiar to him. It felt… really nice.

Then he could feel a soft hum in the back of his mind. Ezra flinched slightly in anticipation, expecting Caleb to rip through his mind the way his master had so many times…. 

But that’s not what happened. Caleb’s bright warmth didn’t stab into his mind or shove Ezra aside. Instead Ezra could feel Caleb gently wrapping himself around a tiny part of his broken mind, slowly coaxing the cold out. It was not unlike pulling out a large splinter. Ezra whimpered and trembled at the sensation. 

“Shh…” Caleb hushed, stroking his hair and holding him tightly. “It’s okay…”

Silent tears rolled down Ezra’s face. He couldn’t remember the last time he had felt this _ safe_. Or the last time anyone had ever held him like this. Caleb had carried him, but Ezra hardly remembered those times. And this was different. This was soothing and and all encompassing, and it made Ezra weep with relief. And yet, it terrified him. The more Caleb saw of his mind, the sooner he would realize how disgusting Ezra was, he would _see_ the horrible things that Ezra has done.

Still, he couldn’t make himself pull away. He just wanted to stay right here forever, cradled in the safety and warmth of Caleb's embrace.

* * *

Caleb ran his hand through his hair as he paced the tiny apartment. 

“You’re gonna wear a hole in the floor if you keep that up much longer.”

“That’d only be because the floor is about to collapse on itself any minute,” Caleb replied dryly. He paused, looking at Styles who was nursing a beer. “Why are you living in a dump like this anyway?”

Styles shrugged. “It’s cheap. I have better things to spend my money on than a fancy pillow.”

“You could stay at the Temple for free like Grey and Mixx…”

Styles scoffed. “No thanks. I’m more content living out here. Besides, where else would you have run off to if I didn’t have this place? It’s not like you carry credits on you.”

That was true enough. Caleb looked back over at Ezra who was sleeping peacefully at the moment. He knew he had made the right decision to get Ezra out of the Temple, but now he was at a loss for what to do next. He knew he should speak to his master but he was also dreading it. 

Caleb’s faith in the Jedi Order had never been as stalwart as most of his peers’. While the Skywalker Incident had shaken everyone to a degree, there were other aspects of the Order that Caleb had always questioned. And more often than not, his questions were left unanswered. As he got older, as he and Master Billaba travelled around the galaxy trying to aid in Reconstruction, he had met many people who did not trust the Jedi Order. The more Caleb listened, the more he began to sympathize. He realized that many of the traditions of the Jedi Order were done through almost blind faith. And many of them were inconsistent in practice.

Still, Caleb could not have asked for a better life. He cherished his experiences out in the galaxy, but he was also happy to come back home. He couldn’t imagine a life where the Jedi Order wasn’t a part of his life. 

Then he found Ezra, and it started a chain reaction of events that would leave Caleb thoroughly and utterly lost. The Jedi whom he had once thought of as compassionate and kind turned out to be cold and dismissive when it came to Ezra. Yes, he had been trained by a Sith Lord, but they acted as though Ezra had chosen that path willingly. As if simply _ touching _the Dark Side meant that there was almost zero chance for redemption. 

It left Caleb facing some cold hard truths. The Jedi Code was not inherently compassionate. It was about peace and knowledge, but in all of his formal teachings, he couldn’t remember any lessons about how a Jedi should be kind and empathetic. In fact, many lessons seemed to steer away from such notions. It was only from his own master that he learned that there was nothing wrong with attachments and emotions so long as they did not rule one’s actions. 

And if anything has been clear in the last month, the Jedi Order’s actions towards Ezra had been completely devoid of emotion. Which Caleb could now see was only making Ezra worse. 

Caleb’s comm pinged. He frowned, looking to see what frequency it was. So far he had only gotten a couple messages from his master, which he was currently ignoring. Thankfully that wasn't enough to set up any alarms, as he had only been gone for half a day. It wasn’t terribly unusual for a Padawan of his seniority to go off on their own for a day or two.

But this message was from Sammo. 

“_Have you seen this holo?” _

Said holo was attached, and Caleb opened it. It was only a couple seconds long, but it made his blood run cold. 

Kneeling in the middle of the holo was Tai, her face and chest covered in deliberate burn marks. Her wrists were bound behind her back and some sort of muzzle was covering her mouth. Her eyes were closed, her expression lax, as if she were meditating. Then a second later there was Ezra… running Tai through with a lightsaber. 


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Whumptober: Altno 10 Nightmare, Altno 14 Touch-Starved

The holo had caused an uproar within the Order. It had been assumed - and confirmed by Master Kenobi and Master Muln’s own report - that Tai Uzuma had been killed by Darth Maul. However, this holo seemed to prove otherwise. 

The High Council had called an emergency meeting, requesting Master Muln’s presence as it appeared that the holo had originated from his room. Unfortunately, Depa was not allowed in the chambers during the meeting, leaving her to pace the halls restlessly as she waited. What was even worse was that she could not find her own padawan. She had tried hailing him after she had seen the holo, but so far the only response has been silence. She could sense that her padawan was not too far away, but he also seemed to be blocking her out. That did not bode well. 

The door to the Council Room opened and Master Muln stepped out, followed closely by the members of the High Council. He briefly made eye contact with Depa. “I want to give you and your Padawan my deepest condolences,” he said, putting a hand on Depa’s shoulder. “I know this can’t be easy for young Dume.”

Depa gave a small frown as she pushed Muln’s hand off her shoulder. “You did this on purpose…”

“I was merely rectifying a mistake,” Muln said evenly. “I should have been forthright with my knowledge. But I wanted to deal with the boy myself, see if maybe I could make the situation _ right _ again. However, I fear my silence may have only caused more pain in the long run, and for that I am truly sorry.”

And with that, Muln walked away leaving Depa to contemplate his words. Her eyes narrowing, she turned and walked directly towards her old master. 

“Not here,” Mace said. With a small nod and a hand on her back, he led Depa back to his quarters. When the door closed behind them, Mace sighed. “I don’t have long. The Council will be reconvening momentarily to evaluate Bridger.”

“Evaluate him?"

“Yes. It seems obvious that we underestimated how dangerous Bridger is. We had not known that he had taken a life - the life of young Uzuma at that - and seems to have culminated in him lashing out in the Commissary, injuring several people.”

“Yes… but I heard it was likely an accident, not a malicious act.”

“Even so, it demonstrates that a traditional Jedi training is not adequate for Bridger. And there are some on the Council who believe Bridger may simply be too far gone to ever fully cast away his Sith training.”

Depa’s eyes narrowed. “Is that what _ you _ think?”

Mace sighed. “This is unprecedented territory. Never before has the Jedi Order found a Sith apprentice so young. And there is no living memory of any Sith being brought to the Temple. That’s why we wish to evaluate Bridger more closely. With the combined focus of the entire Council, we believe we’ll be able to probe the boy and the Force to see how we should proceed.”

“And if the Council decides that Bridger cannot be saved…?”

“We will do as our predecessors did: keep the Sith confined in our detainment center where he will be able to live out his days comfortably without being a danger to us or the public.”

Mace’s comm beeped. “_Master Windu_,” a voice said. “_There’s a problem… the boy isn’t here_.”

He grabbed his comm. “What do you mean he isn’t there?”

“_Master Muln said he confined the boy in the old detainment center, but we just checked every cell; the boy isn’t here._”

“How can that be? Did he escape? Or…” Mace furrowed his brow, looking at his former apprentice. “Depa… Where is Caleb?”

Depa pressed her lips together. While she didn’t want to believe he was involved with this… she knew that wasn’t the case. “I don’t know.”

“Depa…”

“Mace, I’m telling the truth. I don’t know. Caleb hasn’t been answering his comm.”

Mace hummed, his expression grave as he spoke into his comm. “Organize a search team. Try to locate Caleb Dume, as he might be involved with Bridger’s disappearance.”

“_Yes, Master Windu_.”

He turned his comm off and looked at Depa. “How much time has he been spending with the boy?”

“A bit,” Depa admitted. She didn’t know exactly how much as she did not track her padawan closely when they were at the Temple, but she knew Caleb had been preoccupied with Bridger since they day they had found him. 

“And what do you think his reaction will be when he sees the holo?”

Depa let out a soft sigh as she contemplated the question. She knew now why Caleb was hiding from her. Her connection to Mace and her history on the High Council meant she was inextricably linked to the very people who would be deciding Bridger’s fate. If Caleb wanted to protect Ezra, that meant potentially protecting him from _ her_.

But once he saw the holo… would he return once he knew the child had killed his friend? Or would he stick by Bridger’s side and go deeper into hiding?

“I trust Caleb,” she finally said. Whatever Caleb’s actions ultimately were, she knew he would not make a decision lightly.

Mace sighed. “Alright. I’m going to aid with the search. You should as well.”

“I will,” Depa promised, watching as Mace left. She had a hunch about a good place to start looking.

* * *

Caleb was sitting in the refresher with the door locked as he watched the holo over and over again, unable to tear himself away. Tai and Ezra both looked horrible, their clothes in tatters, their skin ravaged with lightsaber burns. But Tai looked oddly at peace as she was stabbed over and over again. As if she was accepting her death. Meanwhile Ezra looked half-crazed as he killed her.

He knew there had to be more to the story. Maul must have forced Ezra to kill her. Caleb had no idea how, but that _ had _ to be the case. But it was hard to ignore the look in Ezra’s eyes. He had never seen such rage in the boy. A part of Caleb wanted to deny that this _ was _ Ezra, but the scars along Ezra’s face and neck matched the burns in the holo. It was unmistakable. 

There was a knock on the door. “Kid?” Styles called. “You okay in there?”

“Yeah, I’m fine…” Caleb turned the holo off and stood, unlocking and opening the door. “Sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it. Just making sure you didn’t fall in.”

Caleb rolled his eyes as he stepped out and checked in on Ezra. He was still sleeping. 

“So what are you gonna do now?” Styles asked, sipping his beer as he leaned against the wall. 

“I’m not sure. Sammo messaged and said that the everyone at the Temple is looking for us.”

“I know… Grey just commed me.”

Caleb looked at Styles. “And what did you say?”

“That I’d help with the search…” Styles downed the rest of his beer before crushing the can and tossing it aside. “Kid, you have to talk to the General.”

Caleb sighed. “I know…”

“So what are you waiting for?”

Caleb bit his lip as he gazed at Ezra’s sleeping face, which was barely peeking out from beneath the covers. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust his master. He was just afraid of what was going to happen. If everyone in the Temple had seen that holo… Ezra’s treatment by others stood only to get worse. Ezra had killed a Jedi. Killed one of Caleb’s best friends…

He swallowed and looked away. Doubt was starting to creep into his mind and he didn’t like it. But he just felt so lost right now. As if his entire life was teetering on the edge of a cliff, about to topple over into a bottomless abyss.

Maybe all of this was a mistake. Maybe he should have listened to the Council and his master and just stayed away from Ezra…

A small whimper drew Caleb out of his thoughts. Ezra was trembling in the bed, curled into a tight tense ball. The cold sickly tendrils of Ezra’s mind were once against starting to seep out into the Force. 

Caleb didn’t think twice as he rushed to Ezra's side, placing a hand on the boy's shoulder and giving it a small shake. “Hey, wake up…” he said softly. “It’s just a nightmare…”

Ezra didn’t seem to hear him. He simply grimaced and moaned. 

Caleb gripped Ezra’s shoulder more tightly and shook a little harder. “Ezra…!”

Ezra suddenly gasped as his eyes snapped open. He flinched back away from Caleb, his eyes searching the small apartment wildly. “No!” he screamed, trying to scramble back away from Caleb. 

Caleb flinched with a hiss of pain as Ezra’s fear lashed out. Weeks of therapy with the mind healers and Ezra still had basically no shields. “E-Ezra…” 

Ezra’s breaths were coming in shallow pants as he pressed his back to the wall, covering his face with his hands. Caleb could hear whispers from Ezra’s mind, the distorted growl of a man’s voice.

_ You are broken. _

_ You are nothing without your master. _

_ Only I can mold you into something of _ ** _use_**.

Hearing these things echo in Ezra’s mind made Caleb feel sick. Determined to get the whispers to stop, Caleb swept Ezra up in a tight embrace and tried to tackle the sickly threads lashing out of Ezra through the Force. “Those are lies,” Caleb whispered into Ezra’s scalp. “Don’t listen to them, just listen to me…”

Caleb continued to whisper softly and rub Ezra’s back, trying to center him again. His ragged pants eventually slowed and transformed into soft hitches as Ezra cried against Caleb’s chest. His mind didn’t seem quite as cold and sticky as Caleb continued to soothe him. But even as his mind warmed, a deep pang was resonating through Ezra… 

_ Loneliness_. It had infected Ezra through and through, echoing his trauma in every corner of his mind. Ezra was starving for contact. He was both leaning into Caleb heavily and unconsciously clinging to their fledgling bond, desperate to feel some sort of connection. It was honestly a bit painful for Caleb but he didn’t care. Ezra needed this.

His doubts from earlier had been banished. This wasn’t a mistake. The notion of leaving Ezra alone to drown in _ this _ was unthinkable. Caleb hugged Ezra tightly. “Things are going to get better…” he whispered. “I promise.”


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> BTHB: Please don’t leave me, Anger born of Worry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is probably the longest chapter of the fic. It's also probably going to be by far the most controversial. Nevertheless, I hope you enjoy it.

Mixx swallowed and shifted slightly under the General’s gaze. Even though she wasn’t technically a military leader anymore, his respect for her made it difficult for him to deny her anything. Even the location of her - capable, but at times foolhardy - apprentice, if she so asked. Luckily, so far she hadn’t.

“There is something I think you should know,” he said quietly, avoiding her gaze. “Something I doubt Master Muln was forthright with.” He grabbed his datapad and pulled up the notes and images he had taken on Ezra. He handed the datapad to her. “There are signs of ongoing abuse… fresh bruises that Ezra said was inflicted by Master Muln.”

Billaba had a deep frown as she looked over Ezra’s file. “You also note he had some self-inflicted injuries. How do you not know these bruises are not similar?”

“He had no reason to lie,” Mixx stated. “Especially since he believes he deserved the abuse.”

Billaba gazed at Mixx. “Is that why Caleb took him?” she asked softly.

“Among other reasons… Caleb said he found Ezra in a Sith prison…?”

“Yes, Master Muln told the Council that he put Bridger there when he realized the child had lost control.”

“Ezra’s body temperature was slightly below normal,” Mixx said. “And Caleb said Ezra had been left in complete darkness.”

She closed her eyes and let out a long sigh. “Bridger killed his padawan… It is not out of the realm of possibility that his primary motivation for taking Ezra in was to… have revenge."

Mixx nodded. “I told Caleb he should talk to you…”

“Is he at Styles’ apartment?”

Mixx blinked, and in that moment of hesitation he knew that she had her answer. She gave a small shake of her head. “Oh Caleb, such an obvious choice for such a brilliant mind…”

“I think he was a bit preoccupied,” Mixx said dryly. 

“Indeed.” She gave him his datapad back. “I will go speak with him.”

Mixx nodded, watching as she turned to leave. “General.” 

She paused, turning back with a raised eyebrow.

“I may not be completely in the know when it comes to matters of the Force, but I know a traumatized child when I see one. And children who have suffered the way Ezra has… they need more than the children who have known nothing but safety and comfort of the Temple. Excuse my bluntness, but I think Anakin Skywalker was a perfect example of that.”

She didn’t seem angry, but he saw her take a deep breath: a sign that she was managing her emotions. Then she gave a small nod. “Thank you, Mixx.”

Mixx gave a small smile as he watched her walk out. This wasn’t going to be easy for any of them. But he had faith… in both of his Jedi.

* * *

Caleb stared at his comm. His master had tried to call him again, but he wasn’t quite ready to talk to her. Not yet. He still had straighten out his own thoughts. Unfortunately, time was not on his side. Master Billaba had left him as message.

“_Caleb, I know where you are. I haven’t told anyone else… but it’s time we talked._”

Ezra was curled up on the bed, staring at Caleb. “A-Are… y-you in t-t-trouble…?”

“I don’t know,” Caleb admitted quietly. With the High Council there was no question; he was sure he was in hot water. But he wasn’t too worried about his master. She never faulted Caleb for having compassion. A part of him was grateful that his master was coming. Maybe she would help put some sense in his world right now. But he was also afraid because… Well, he wasn’t sure why. 

_ “The universe is far from static, and as it changes, a Jedi’s role in it must evolve… You must not grow too attached, too fond, too in love with life as it is now.” _

Caleb swallowed. They were old words of wisdom that his master had given him shortly before the war had ended. And now they pushed Caleb to face a truth that he just hadn’t been able to admit to himself before. From the moment he had found Ezra… No. From the moment he had sensed their bond forming moments before, Caleb knew that his life was going to change. Change in a way that he wasn’t sure he was prepared for. 

_ I haven’t even taken the Trials yet… I’m not even a full Jedi! _ He ran his hands through his short hair, his fingers drifted down to the base of his braid. He had been an apprentice for almost a decade now. In a way, it was hard to imagine himself as anything else.

“Well, this is good, right?” Styles said, sipping on yet another beer. “You can talk to the General without the uppity power of the Jedi Council breathing down your necks.”

“Yeah…” Caleb said with a sigh, looking back over at Ezra. He was looking downward, fiddling with the wrapper of the meal bar Styles had given him. He had been nibbling on it for nearly an hour. “You need to eat, Ezra.”

Ezra glanced up at him before giving a small nod and taking another small bite. Caleb rubbed Ezra’s back, giving a small smile as Ezra automatically leaned against Caleb. 

_ This _ was right. That much Caleb was certain of.

When he sensed his master approaching, he mentally braced himself. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply in a pseudo-meditative state. He leaned on the Force, reassuring himself that his path was true. He wasn’t even sure what exactly he was bracing for, but he knew this was going to be a very hard conversation. 

There was a knock on the door, and Styles pulled out a blaster pistol. 

“It’s fine, Styles. It’s just Master Billaba,” Caleb got up to answer the door. 

“Doesn’t hurt to be too careful,” Styles replied simply. 

Caleb just sighed tiredly as he pressed the control panel, the door swishing open. As expected, it was his master. She had a serious expression on her face, but she managed a small smile when she saw Caleb. “You have certainly have had an interesting couple of days.”

“Technically it’s only been a day…” Caleb replied blithely, stepping aside to allow his master come inside. 

As she walked in, Styles tucked his pistol back away. “General.”

“It’s been a long time, Styles,” she said lightly. “Have you been doing well?”

“Well enough,” he said dismissively, leaning back in his chair and taking a big draught from his beer. 

Caleb could sense her disappointment, but she simply turned toward Ezra, her expression softening. “Hello, youngling.”

Ezra somehow curled in tighter on himself, cocooning himself deeper into Caleb’s robe. “H-Hello…” he whispered, barely audible. 

Caleb sat at the table next to Styles as his master sat across from them. 

“So…” Master Billaba said quietly. “Tell me everything.”

* * *

Styles tried to appear relaxed, leaning back in his seat, making it sway slightly on its back two supports, drinking his beer to keep the muffled buzz in his head steady…

But the General and Commander both had such strong personalities. While Caleb was obviously less rambunctious than he had been during the war, he was still quick to question when he saw anything run afoul. It was precisely the reason he was here in Styles apartment and not in the high tower of the Jedi Temple. 

Even the General, as calm and stately as she was outwardly, was not the cold, emotionless Jedi many often thought. The intensity of her emotions when one caught a glimpse of them had always betrayed the fire burning within her. 

Caleb was carefully laying out everything: the way other Jedi in the Temple would speak of Ezra; finding Ezra in the Sith prison under conditions that were explicitly illegal by Republic standards; the kid’s physical state and his confession that his master was hitting him…

Styles didn’t need the Force to know how they were both feeling. The Commander was certain in his belief that he was right but scared of what this meant for his relationship to the Jedi Order… and to his master. 

The General? She believed every word Caleb was saying. In fact, Styles was almost certain she had already known all of this before even coming here.

But then Caleb gave her the kicker. “But there’s something else…” He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “I believe that Ezra and I share a Force bond.”

_ That _ had caught the General off guard. She glanced over at the kid, who had been sitting unnaturally still the entire time. Ezra continued to just stare at his half-eaten meal bar without moving a muscle. The General’s eyes narrowed slightly, not in suspicion or disbelief but in concentration. She was using the Force to probe the truth of the statement.

“I think it formed before we even found him,” Caleb said. “I-I didn’t recognize it at first, and I think I tried to ignore it after I was told to keep my distance from Ezra…”

“I see.” The general sighed softly as she looked back at her padawan. “Have you seen the holo?”

Caleb slumped slightly in his seat, his eyes flickering briefly toward Ezra. “Yes,” he whispered. “I…” His voice caught in his throat, suddenly at a loss for words. 

The General reached forward and placed on her apprentice’s shoulder. “The High Council wishes to evaluate Bridger.”

Caleb frowned. “Evaluate him? For what?”

“They will decide whether or not Bridger can ever truly be turned from the Dark. If they decide that is not the case… He will be confined for the rest of his life.”

The blood drained out of Caleb’s face. “They can’t…!”

“I assure you, they can.”

Caleb looked back at Ezra, who still had yet to move a muscle. Perhaps he had zoned out. Styles could certainly sympathize. 

“It… I-It wasn’t his fault…” Caleb said, although his confidence from before was gone.

“Are you certain? Have you asked him?”

Instead of answering, he looked down at the table. “He’s just a kid…”

“Who was trained by a Sith Lord for four years.” The General suddenly stood and walked over to the bunk. 

Caleb jumped up and scrambled after her. “Master…!”

“Bridger.”

Ezra stiffened, but managed to raise his head to look at the General in acknowledgement, although his line of sight only managed to make it up to her mid-chest. 

“Do you know who Tai Uzuma is?”

Ezra’s eyes widened and he quickly looked down, his breathing quickening. 

“Can you tell me what happened to her?”

Fear - no, _ terror _ \- began to fill the room. Even Styles could feel it. His own anxiety began to rise in his chest, so he quickly downed his beer and got up to grab another one. 

“Perhaps I can make this easier,” the General went on. Her voice was soft, but with just enough of an edge to show that she expected an answer. “We know what happened to her. What we wish to know is _ why_.”

“Master…”

“Caleb, he is going to have to answer to either me or the High Council.” 

Styles stood on the far side of the room, gripping his new beer tightly as he watched all of this unfold. The tension was stoking his flight response, his instincts telling him to flee the inevitable explosion, but he couldn’t bring himself to abandon his Jedi. 

Ezra had yet to make a sound. He was shaking hard, the wrapper in his hand crinkling as his hands clenched together. 

“I understand you’re afraid,” the General said, her attention turned back to Ezra. “But know that the High Council will get the answers they need one way or another.”

“Master, _ stop!_” Caleb suddenly grabbed Depa’s arm and yanked her back, pulling her attention away from Ezra. 

A pregnant moment of silence fell over the room. The General was staring at Caleb in with wide eyes, her mouth slightly open in surprise. Even Caleb seemed to be in a bit of shock, staring down at the hand that was gripping his master’s arm. 

But the moment passed, and Caleb’s gaze hardened. “This… This isn’t right. _ Nothing _ about this kriffed up situation is right!”

“Caleb…” the General said pleadingly. “_Please_, I fear your emotions are clouding your judgement.”

“No, they’re _ not!_” Caleb shouted. “They’re making things clearer than they’ve ever been before!”

The General paled as she gripped her padawan’s shoulders tightly. “Caleb, Bridger might very well be a threat to himself and everyone around him, _ including _ you.”

“Master, he’s just a kid!”

“It is a Jedi’s responsibility to safeguard the galaxy against _ all _agents of the Dark Side, even if that agent is a child.”

“_Then I don’t want to be a Jedi!” _ As the words left his mouth, Caleb’s eyes widened. They had come out before he could even process them. But then his expression slackened, and Styles knew that Caleb was realizing that he actually meant them. 

The General’s eyes were wide, her body seemingly frozen as Caleb stepped away from her. “Caleb…”

“It’s not just Muln; the way everyone has treated Ezra as if he was a pariah. The fact that the Council think there’s _ any _ justice is locking Ezra up for the rest of his life…” Caleb was speaking barely above a whisper, his voice cracking. “If this is what it means to be a Jedi, then I can’t be part of it.”

Caleb reached into his pocket and pulled out a small vibroblade. With a shaky sigh but no hesitation, he cut the braid from the base of his skull. His eyes filled with tears but hardened with the certainty of his decision, he pulled out his lightsaber and stepped towards the General, offering her both the braid and the saber. She wordlessly took them, looking to be in a state of shock. 

“I’m taking Ezra with me…” Caleb said. “I suppose you can try and stop me, or have me and Ezra hunted down… But if you do, I will do everything in my power to hide in the deepest darkest corners of the galaxy.”

“You can’t control him on your own,” the General managed to say.

Caleb gave a strained smile. “I won’t have to.”

He walked past her toward Ezra, who seemed to be in a similar state of shock. Caleb placed a hand on his back, helping gather his robe as ushering Ezra off the bed and towards the door. Just as they were about to step out, Caleb paused. “Master?”

The general - who had yet to move a muscle - turned toward him. 

“I’m sorry.”

And with that, he was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's right. Bet you never would have guessed the BTHB prompts were about *Depa*.
> 
> When I set out to write this fic, this was NOT the path I intended to take. I was planning on Caleb going through the Trials. But as I was actually writing it and Caleb was developing... this seemed like a more logical path for him.


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> BTHB: Hope is Scary
> 
> Whumptober: altno.13 Breathless

Caleb could barely think. All he could focus on was Ezra’s presence by his side and putting one foot in front of the other. He wasn’t even sure where he was going. He just knew he had to get away. 

He walked out to the landing platform, and upon seeing a familiar ship, he immediately got into it. He sat Ezra down in the passenger seat and prepped the ship before taking off, his actions automatic and routine. He navigated the ship into one of the large lanes of traffic that he knew circled Coruscant before flipping into autopilot. 

He reached back and rubbed the hairs that were left of his padawan braid. Did… Did he really just do this? In his entire life, he never thought something like this was even possible. That he would actually leave the Jedi Order. 

Caleb let out a shuddered sigh as he consciously acknowledged what had just happened. He had just walked away from everything he had ever known. He buried his face in his hands, trying to keep his breathing even. The bond he shared with his master was shored up, blocked. It wasn’t just him. His master was blocking it as well, pushing it down until it was nothing but a single thread. Strong and enduring, but no louder than a whisper.

But despite his decision, he could still feel the Force moving strongly through him. Caleb rubbed his face before looking down at his hands. Just because he wasn’t part of the Order didn’t mean he wasn’t one with the Force. It was still a part of him, just like always. Even though he had no idea what lie ahead, even though panic was nipping at his heels… This still felt _ right_.

He looked over at Ezra, the entire reason he was doing all of this. The youngling had a thousand meter stare, his body almost perfectly still. Caleb swallowed, wondering how Ezra was taking all of this. “Ezra…?”

The boy flinched and looked over at Caleb with wide unfocused eyes. 

Caleb slid off his seat and knelt next to him so that they were at eye level. “I-I know this is a lot…” he said quietly, putting a hand on Ezra’s knee. “But I promise I’m going to take care of you. No one is going to hurt you ever again. Do you understand me?”

He could see Ezra swallowing compulsively, his eyes searching the space between them in thought. “Did… D-Did I…?” His eyes filled with tears and his breathing became shallow.

“Hey hey…” Caleb reached up and pressed his hand to Ezra’s jaw, rubbing his thumb over his cheek. “Everything that just happened was _ my _ decision. You’re not allowed to blame yourself for this, okay?”

There was a small whimper in the back of Ezra’s throat as he squeezed his eyes shut, tears falling down his face. 

With a small sigh, Caleb closed his eyes and focused on Ezra, once again wrapping himself around edges of Ezra's mind. He raised his other hand to cradle child's face in his hands, slowing working to coax the cold and bitterness out. “You don’t deserve what happened to you…”

An echo flashed in the forefront of Caleb’s mind, like a vision. It was Tai, the moment her life Force drained from her. It was Ezra’s perspective, his desperate rage and fear as he ran her through and the horror as he realized what he had done…

Caleb let out a shaky sigh, pushing down the pang of grief the echo spurred in him. He focused on Ezra’s emotions in the memory. Ezra had been nearly delirious with pain, and his regret was sharp and bitter as he realized that he had killed the wrong person. Caleb’s own eyes burned with tears as he keenly felt these emotions.

He had been right. Ezra didn’t just kill her because he was evil or too far gone. Ezra had been manipulated by the Sith Lord. Caleb wrapped himself around this memory and made it small. “I don’t blame you…” he whispered gently. 

Ezra was trembling hard in Caleb’s hands as he sobbed. Disbelief and desperate hope consumed him, and Caleb pulled him closer. “Shh…” he pressed his forehead to Ezra’s. “I’m right here. And I’m never leaving.” He slowly pulled Ezra off the seat and into his arms, holding him tightly. Ezra’s sobs were so harsh he struggled to breath. Caleb just continued to hush him and rub his back, whispering softly into his hair. 

* * *

Depa was numb. When she finally did work up the nerve to actually move, the first thing she did was walk up to Styles. She silently took his hand and pressed Caleb’s lightsaber into it. At first, he frowned, looking between the saber and Depa. But when she made eye contact with him, his expression relaxed and he simply nodded. He understood. 

Then she walked out. When she got out onto the platform, she blinked in surprise to find that her shuttle was gone. However, there was a cheap Star Commuter parked nearby. It would have to do. She just needed to get back to the Temple. Now. She could pay back who ever it belonged to later. 

She flew the short distance back in complete silence. She made no calls. The thought of calling Mace, of telling him what had just happened… it was too painful. 

When she got back, she walked straight towards the Halls of Healing. They had small rooms for short term patient stays. Nowadays they were used primarily by the Clones who were in the Jedi’s employ. When she found herself in front of a familiar door, she knocked.

A couple moments passed before the door opened. “General?” Grey was frowning. “Are you okay?”

She wordlessly stepped into his room. “Pardon the intrusion,” she whispered. 

The door behind her. “It’s fine…” He stepped up to her side. “I’m sorry I haven’t been able to help with the search. I was in the middle of a session and - ”

“Caleb is gone.”

There was a beat, and Depa turned to face Grey. He simply looked puzzled. “I-I’m sorry, General?”

“_Please _ don’t call me that,” she sighed, feeling wrung out. She sat down at his small dining table. “Caleb has left the Order.”

“Left the Order?” Grey echoed. “You don’t mean the _ Jedi _ Order, do you?”

She looked up at him, and his expression collapsed as he realized that was exactly what she meant. He sat down across from her. “Is this for Ezra?”

“Yes. Caleb believes that the way the Jedi Order has been treating Bridger has been… incorrect. That _ my _ actions regarding Bridger were incorrect.” 

Grey’s brow scrunched in sympathy. “What happened?”

Depa gazed downward, realizing that the braid was still clutched in her hand. “Caleb has gone to such lengths to protect the boy. He was even keeping pertinent information from me. And I…” Her voice petered off.

Grey slowly nodded, looking at her hand with such understanding that it made her chest ache. “You were afraid,” he said quietly. 

As much as it pained her to admit, it was the truth. She _ had _ been afraid. Of so much. If Ezra was the irredeemable Sith apprentice the Council believed he could be, she had to make sure Caleb remained safe. She couldn't lose him… 

Depa shut her eyes. She couldn’t escape it any longer. Mace had tried to make her see before, but she had remained stubborn. She was a Jedi Master, a former member of the High Council! But now that everything had crashed down around her, she was forced to face how arrogant and foolish she had been. How she had let her fear override her good judgement. 

She looked back down at the severed braid in her hand, rubbing it between her thumb and finger. Traditionally, a severed braid was a symbol of freedom, of moving on from an apprentice to full Knighthood. But sitting in her hand like this, it was a symbol of Caleb’s rejection. His rejection of the Temple, of the High Council, of the Jedi Order…

Of _ her_. 

“I failed him…” she whispered. 

“No,” Grey said. “You didn’t fail him.”

“Yes I did. I was selfish. I took Caleb on as an apprentice to prove something to _ myself. _ And then I refused to let him move on. I was afraid to let him go.”

Grey slowly got up and moved his chair closer to Depa’s side. He didn’t say anything, but he placed a hand over hers. She blinked at the action. Then she turned her hand over to grip his, relishing the warmth from the calloused skin. 

“And I’m still afraid…” she admitted, her voice barely a whisper. “Because Caleb has fled with a dangerous and broken child in tow, and I don’t know how to help him.” 

Grey gave her hand a squeeze. “Have you informed the High Council?” he asked gently.

Depa shook her head. Doing so would only mean a redoubling in their search efforts, which would back both Caleb and Bridger into a metaphorical corner… and that would no doubt lead to disastrous consequences. 

She suddenly stood, pulling away from Grey. This isn’t what she should be doing. If she wanted to find the path forward, she would need to search inside herself. “I need to meditate.”

Grey nodded, his eyes creased in worry. “Alright…”

She was about to leave when she paused, placing a hand on Grey’s shoulder. “Thank you, old friend.”

He smiled and nodded. “Of course… Depa.”


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No prompts this chapter. The last Whumptober prompt will be used in the next and final chapter^^

It took longer than Depa had anticipated for Mace to come speak with her. He must have been so focused on the search for Caleb and Bridger that he simply hadn’t noticed her lack of participation. “Can I come in?” he asked, standing in her doorway.

Depa stepped to the side to allow him to step into her quarters. “Is there a reason you’re still in the Temple?” he asked evenly. 

The implied accusation didn’t phase her. “I have been meditating… considering our failure to help Bridger.”

Mace frowned deeply at that. “I would not call our attempts to heal and train him a ‘failure’ quite yet…”

“Oh? Then how _ would _ you characterize this past month which has culminated in the commissary incident?”

Mace pressed his lips into a thinner line than normal. “You know where Caleb is,” he stated.

“I do not,” Depa replied honestly.

“Can you not sense him?”

“He’s blocked me out.” Which was true, but what she did not add was that she was blocking him out as well. The easiest way to lie was to tell the truth. As much as Caleb’s departure pained her, she did not wish to see him hunted down by the Order.

Mace crossed his arms across his chest in thought. “Well, he won’t stay away forever. At some point, he will return home.”

Depa’s shoulders slumped at that. “No… I don’t think he will.” Before Mace could question her, she pulled Caleb’s braid from the sleeve of her robe. 

Her old master’s eyes widened slightly, his mouth opening in disbelief. She imagined he was seeing echoes of when Ahsoka Tano - and then a year later, Anakin Skywalker - had walked away from the Order.

But then he closed his mouth as his expression went serious. “That boy is dangerous, much too dangerous for a child like Caleb to handle.”

“He is nearly twenty-four. Hardly a child. And as you correctly pointed out to me, he is more than ready for the Trials… had he stayed.” Depa closed her eyes and took a deep calming breath. This was not easy for her. “There is something else. Caleb has formed a Force bond with young Bridger.”

Mace stiffened, his eyes narrowing. “How can you be certain?”

“Because Caleb told me. And I verified it myself. It’s likely the reason Caleb was so taken with Bridger since the beginning. Why he so blatantly disobeyed when we told him to keep his distance. And why… why I believe that Caleb will be alright. That he’ll be able to pull Bridger from the dark in a way none of the rest of us could.”

“The existence of a bond is not a guarantee,” Mace said sternly. “In fact, it only means that Caleb is _ more _ likely to be manipulated and pulled into the Dark _ with _ Bridger.”

“I have faith,” Depa snapped back, with a bit more resentment than she had intended. She closed her eyes and sighed. “If Bridger is as volatile as the High Council fears, then they need only wait until he has another outburst,” Depa stated calmly. “And if he isn’t…” She closed her eyes as the painful pressure in her chest swelled. “Then Caleb will do fine taking care of him. I have faith in my… former… Padawan.”

“It’s likely that the Council will not see it that way. You know that, right?”

Depa nodded. She knew that Mace was duty bound to report all of this to the Council, and some would no doubt echo Mace’s sentiments. Although perhaps not all. 

“Whatever the Council decides, Caleb is no longer a member of the Order. He made this choice of his own free will. And if I know him well… The Council will have a very hard time finding him. Mace, I was afraid for him, too… but now I am not.”

“Oh? What changed?”

Depa smiled. “Me, Mace. Just me.”

* * *

Caleb eventually pulled out of the traffic and found a small hotel cheap hotel… only to realize that he literally had no credits. Kriff, he was going to have to get a _ job._ In the meantime, their only mode of shelter was this small ship. There were some rations that could last them at least a few days. There were a couple of emergency blankets, but no actual bunks to sleep on. 

He tried not to panic. He might be _ way _ over his head, but he could figure this out. He would. 

Ezra was sitting in the corner, still wrapped up in Caleb’s robe as he watched him pace the length of the ship. He was rubbing his finger along the edge of one of his bandages, picking at it in irritation. With the fast-acting bacta, Ezra’s scratches were probably healed enough that they wouldn’t have to worry about infection. Because that would be the last thing they needed right now. 

Finally Caleb just sighed and sat down next to Ezra. The youngling had barely spoken more than a couple words since they left Styles’ apartment. Caleb supposed he was still overwhelmed by everything going on. He sympathized. 

Very hesitantly, Ezra leaned against Caleb’s side. Just the slightest pressure, as if testing the waters. With a small smile, Caleb wrapped an arm around him, pulling him closer. Ezra let out a sigh of relief, nuzzling his face against Caleb’s chest. Caleb gave a soft chuckle, rubbing Ezra's arm comfortingly. Kid was so goddamn cute… 

“Hey Commander!” a voice outside suddenly shouted. “You in there?”

Ezra stiffened against Caleb, his breathing hitching.

“Shh…” Caleb said softly. “Just stay here…” He got up and peaked his head out to see Styles standing there with a bag slung over his shoulder. Caleb relaxed slightly. “What are you doing here? How did you find us?”

“Kid, you took _ the General’s _ ship.” Styles pushed past Caleb and walked inside, pulling back a panel and fingering through the tangle of wires before ripping out the red and blue ones. “The transponder was still on. The Jedi could have tracked you in half a second.”

“Oh…” Which only begged the question of why _ hadn’t _ the Jedi been able to track them down yet. Had his master not informed the Council what had happened? That thought made him… uneasy. 

“You’re really off your game, Commander.” Styles let out a grunt as he stood back up. He looked over at Ezra - who was looking at Styles nervously - before looking back at Caleb. “I take it you’ve figured out that things cost money?”

Caleb’s face burned in embarrassment. “Yeah…” he mumbled. 

“Well I’ve got some credits saved up from my Republic stipend,” Styles said, setting his bag down. Then he reached for something on his belt. “Also, you’ll probably be wanting this.”

Caleb’s eyes widened as Styles held out his lightsaber. “What are you doing with that?!”

“The General gave it to me,” Styles said. “You might want to leave the Order, but that doesn’t mean you have to go unprotected.”

Caleb could only stare at his saber. It had been physically painful to hand it over to his master, but he felt it had to be done if he was going to leave behind the life of a Jedi. Ironically, he felt he had to let go to anything that attached him to the Jedi Order. “What did she say?” he asked quietly.

“She didn’t say anything,” Styles said. “She didn’t have to.” He stepped closer, grabbing one of Caleb’s hands and putting the lightsaber in it. 

Caleb gripped his saber tightly, an odd sense of relief washing over him as he felt his crystal sing to him. Maybe he was never meant to become a Jedi, but his lightsaber was an inextricable part of him. He thought about Ahsoka Tano and Anakin Skywalker. What did they do when they left? Did they take their sabers with them? He could hardly imagine. Abandoning his saber had been almost as hard as telling his master that he couldn’t stay. 

“But even if the General lets you go, I doubt the Order is just gonna let you and the kid leave so easily.” Styles turned and sat down in the pilot’s seat, powering the ship up. 

Caleb frowned. “What are you doing?”

“It’s best we leave the Core,” Styles said as he prepared for launch. “You want to keep the Jedi from grabbing Ezra and locking him away? We’re gonna need to get as far away as we can.”

Caleb blinked hard. “We?” he echoed.

Styles glanced back at him with a playful grin. “Oh please. No way you can survive out there on your own. You’re brilliant and powerful, but neither of those things will keep you fed.”

“Styles, you don’t have to do this. I’ll figure it out…”

“Maybe eventually.” Styles closed up the ship and took off. “In the meantime, I’ve been itching to get back out in the galaxy. I can teach you how to live like a regular smuck.”

Caleb sighed. Styles seemed set on this. If he were honest with himself, he welcomed Styles' company. He wouldn't be completely alone as he tried to navigate galaxy with a child in tow. “So… Where are we going?” he asked, sitting next to Ezra and putting a hand on the kid’s back. 

“I’ve got a few places in the Outer Rim in mind,” Styles said as he pulled up into the outer atmosphere. “I’ve got enough credits to last us a while while we get adjusted.”

Caleb stared out of the viewport as they took off, taking one last good look at the towering buildings of Coruscant. They were really doing this. He was on the run from the Jedi Order. He was abandoning his life, everything he had ever known…

Ezra was trembling as he scooted closer to Caleb and pushed up against his side, looking up at Caleb as if he had all the answers. 

With a small smile, Caleb wrapped his arms around Ezra. The future may be uncertain and vaguely terrifying, but the Force swirled around him, and he knew that they would be okay.


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Whumptober: 30. Recovery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hate writing endings, they never feel quite right to me. None the less, I hope this is a satisfactory conclusion :)

**Six Months Later**

When Ezra woke up, he was first aware of warmth and soft hum in the Force cradling him. Even after all this time, it was still a shock to wake up to. 

He blinked sluggishly and turned over to look up at Caleb, who was still asleep. With only the slightest hesitation, Ezra pressed his face to Caleb’s chest and sighed as he curled against him. 

This had been unthinkable only a short while ago. Sometimes Ezra still didn’t quite believe this was all real. That Caleb really _ didn’t _ mind Ezra leeching off of him like this. Ezra had no idea how he could possibly survive without Caleb’s near constant support. The mere concept of a person who would care for him, comfort him, wouldn’t hurt him for the slightest wrong… it was so hard for Ezra to wrap his head around. 

And Ezra was still careful. He kept quiet. When Caleb was awake, he would refrain from being plastered to Caleb’s side at all times. He would wait and see if Caleb was open to it. Ezra only had to prod…

Which in of itself was stressful. While Caleb had never rejected him, Ezra still didn’t know. Not really. There were times where Maul was kind and caring. But it never lasted. Muln only did what was in his best interest. So how long would it take for Caleb to realize Ezra did not deserve this?

A deeper exhale signaled Caleb’s awakening. He blinked slowly, gripping Ezra more tightly on impulse. Ezra just passively awaited for Caleb to become fully awake. His grip loosened as he yawned, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. Then he looked down at Ezra. “Sleep well?”

Ezra nodded automatically with a small smile. He knew it made Caleb happy when he smiled.

Caleb grabbed a balled up sock off the ground and tossed it across the room where it hit Styles’ chest. “Oi, wake up.”

Styles groaned and turned over in his bed, his back facing them. “Kriff off…” 

Caleb rolled his eyes as he sat up and stretched, a couple places along his spine cracking. Then he tapped Ezra’s shoulder as he got out of bed. “C’mon. Let’s meditate before work.” 

Ezra nodded and got up to follow him. As they walked out, Caleb whacked Styles’ shoulder, earning a hard glare from the aging clone before he curled back up in his bed with a grunt. It always forever to get Styles out of his bed. 

Caleb prepared some caf while Ezra sat in his normal corner and closed his eyes. This was part of their regular routine. Caleb would start the caf machine to entice Styles, then he would help Ezra with his meditation. It was… hard for Ezra. He had been taught to focus on his pain when meditating, to take his fear and turn it into anger. Under Master Muln, meditation was turned into affirmation exercises. He was worthless Sith scum who was nothing without his master. 

Well, now Caleb was his master, and Ezra definitely felt like he was worth _ something _ when he was with him. Although Caleb got a weird look in his eye any time Ezra mentioned it. It was similar to the look he gave whenever Ezra brought up his previous training. It was usually accompanied with a spike of anger, which Caleb always had to assure wasn’t aimed at him.

Ezra was kneeling on the ground, letting out a sigh as Caleb walked over and knelt in front of him. He didn’t really want to do this right now but he had no idea how Caleb would react if he said so. 

“Alright, start by focusing on your breathing. Then we can work on your shields, okay?”

Ezra nodded and closed his eyes, doing as Caleb said. He took long deep breaths, focusing on the whooshing sound as the air moved through his lungs. The Force around him became sharper. He could feel Caleb’s bright Force signature intertwined with his own, Styles’ quieter but disgruntled presence rumbling in agitation just like every morning…

Then he felt Caleb just gently push against his shields. Ezra couldn’t help but flinch back, a fine shiver running through his body as he imagined Caleb taking his delicate shields and ripping through them like flimsi.

“Shh…” he heard Caleb hush. “I’m not gonna hurt you…”

Ezra could feel Caleb at the core of his shields, very slowly making them warmer from the base up. Ezra tried to keep his breathing even, telling himself over and over that Caleb wasn’t going to just suddenly tear down all their progress. 

Then he felt Caleb pulling on him a little, like taking his hand and leading the way. His shields would only remained steady if he put in the work to help reinforce them. Ezra swallowed. He hated this part. He hated putting himself into these shield, injecting his slimey himself along Caleb’s beautiful work… 

“Stop that,” Caleb chided softly.

“S-Sorry,” Ezra whispered.

“It’s alright, just focus on your shields.”

Ezra’s body was tense as he carefully started to put bits of himself into the shields, reinforcing what Caleb was doing. He hated doing this. He knew it was necessary, especially before they went out for Caleb and Styles to work. When he was in the Temple, everyone’s minds were distant and actively avoided Ezra’s signature. But non-Force sensitives didn’t have that kind of control, so crowds have been a nightmare for Ezra as their emotions and thoughts constantly poured into his mind. It had been getting better in recent months, but only with daily sessions like this with Caleb’s help.

Still, reinforcing his shields required him to really _ look _ at himself, and it always made Ezra feel like garbage. He didn’t want to look inward. He wanted to stay outward, buried in Caleb’s protective presence. 

Ezra sniffled and he wiped the wetness off his cheeks. “I-I hate this…”

“I know,” Caleb said sympathetically. “But you’re doing great.”

Ezra could feel his sincerity, and it made Ezra’s chest flutter with warmth. 

When they finished reinforcing his shields, Caleb swept Ezra up in a tight hug. “I know it’s hard,” Caleb muttered into Ezra’s hair. “But you’re doing well, and I’m proud of you.”

Ezra let out a soft sigh as Caleb’s arms completely encompassed him, nuzzling his face against Caleb’s chest and breathing in his scent. 

“You boys done with your Force stuff?”

Ezra pulled back and peeked out to see Styles sitting at their little dining table, sipping a large cup of caf. “W-Were done,” Ezra mumbled.

Styles smiled at them. “Your session was shorter than usual. I hope that’s a good sign…”

“Yup!” Caleb said with a big smile. “Ezra has gotten damn efficient at reinforcing his shields~”

Ezra couldn’t help but smile back widely, his cheeks hurting a little. 

“Well, I feel a bit more alive now,” Styles said, downing the rest of his caf. “We should try and head out early. Maybe earn a few extra creds by taking a couple additional runs.”

“Yeah sounds good.” Caleb patted Ezra’s back. “You ready to head out?”

Ezra nodded and got up, running back to their bedroom to put on proper clothes. Their life was a bit of a cobbled up mess, a constant struggle to earn enough money and stay underneath the Republic radar. But Ezra was happier than he has ever been, and he wouldn’t trade this life for anything in the entire galaxy. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaand it's over! Hope ya'll enjoyed it!
> 
> Stay tuned, an update for The Undeserving should be coming up this weekend^^


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